Hallelujah | One ShotFashion Concious SuicideFirst Freewebs creation... ever... =D I like it. I hope you like it. Somehow everything's gonna fall right into place if we only had a way to make it all fall faster everyday... |
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If you’ve ever watched your reflection in a hospital floor, you might understand. If you’ve ever watched people in a hospital, you might understand. I’m not saying that you would, or that you will, I’m just saying that you might. And if you were one of the few who did understand, I’d be forever indebted if you could explain to me why right now, I am. Or why he did. There are too many of us here, at this hospital. Too many people who care too much. We all care and pray and cry to God that the reason we’re here in the first place makes it out okay, and that we never have to be here for it again. Then again, there will be too many of us who are disappointed by our outcomes. I should hope that you’re not planning on asking me why I’m here because, for the record, I never saw it coming either. I’ve pulled apart every aspect of my life, and I can’t find one shred of explanation in this. But it has to be somebody’s fault, hasn’t it? Nobody wants to ask or accuse the victim, of course. But if I knew who the real victim was at this point, I might know what was really going on. I’m not saying that I will… I’m just saying that I might. It’s always in these situations that I think of the “should have”s and not the “need to”s. The things that I really needed to do before it became a reality that death was imminent. When in a building where so many lives are ending and beginning, it’s hard not to. I always leave a hospital feeling like a changed person, whether I was or wasn’t. I wonder if those who were lucky enough to leave the hospital alive feel the same way. What do they think, those who get to see the light again? Do they see things differently after they just cheated death? I wouldn’t be able to say rightfully. The closest I’ve been to death was a car wreck, and I walked away from that shaking and promising myself to do something worthwhile with the rest of my life. Reflection always dawns upon you when you're waiting for something, and that something is usually important. News. Confirmation. Comfort, perhaps. Realization turns the loudest groups silent. It changes people, for better or for worse. People become quiet and distant. Cold and offset. You find yourself racking your brain for the last time you told the person in the hospital room how you felt about them. You begin wondering, begin the “should-have”s, if you’ll ever have a chance again. Third chances are rare, both in relationship wise and when it comes to lives. Is it possible to cheat death twice? Can anybody really be that lucky? So here’s to second chances. I'm Patrick Martin Stump and my best friend Pete Wentz just overdosed... ...Again. feedback |