– I think it’s been years since I’ve been as happy as I am right now, in this moment, lying here with you. If I could, I’d lay here forever. Would you?
– I have to pee…
Here I am again, in that special place I promised myself I’d never return to. I came back, stared for a while at the once orange walls that are now peeling off to reveal a dark grey, took off my shoes and headed for the middle of the room. I blew the dust off the only chair in an otherwise empty room and sat down. My torture chair. Now I struggle and I wait.
I came here to die a little more, to have pieces of myself ripped off and left hanging on the walls, next to the pieces from the last time I was here. I came here unwillingly and I hope to survive this room once more.
Here I am again, in that special place…
There’s a bookshelf inside of me, kept empty for books that only you could write before you gave up writing for me.
I have this little egg that I take with me wherever I go; it’s pretty and shiny and I take good care of it. I’ve grown quite fond of it and I like looking after it, it gives me purpose. Today, though, while wiping it clean, I noticed a little crack in its shell.
I felt my heart begin to shatter.
These wolves around you have chosen the wrong fight; they have chosen the wrong adversary. Show them the error of their ways, make them regret the moment they thought they could take you down! You will scorch the earth beneath their feet and lash at them with great rage, you will bring the sky down on them and see them crumbling before you! Gather everything from every last corner within yourself and smite them into oblivion! Your wrath makes you what you are, it is what got you here. Unleash it, and show them there is no force strong enough to match you. Let your rage guide you. Tear them apart, limb from limb! Leave nothing but corpses behind.
Obliterate them; every last one of them.”
I sit here in this waiting room, my own personal hell, this dark, small, waiting room; I sit here alone, waiting, hoping the operation will be a success. Days turn into weeks and I have yet to make contact with anyone or anything. I just sit here. Waiting. Shaking. Scared. All the time. In this loveless waiting room.
I yearn for my time here to come to an end almost as much as I fear it. Will I have a life outside the waiting room, in the real world, or will I be taken to another room? All I can do is wait for you to come through that door and tell me how it went.
“Give it to me straight. Am I going to live?”
Calvin the Hippo
I am not like other hippos. Many would not know it, but it’s true. The main problem with being me is that I have to look for happiness in other hippos. I have none of my own, so I can only feed off of someone else’s, someone who is willing to share theirs, someone who cares. Things would be easier if I wasn’t such a picky hippo. I don’t accept just anyone’s happiness; I have to make sure I like their happiness. I have to make sure it suits me. It generally does not.
I am not like other hippos.