I could hear the EMT speak to me in a demanding voice. As if yelling would make me breathe. Or walk. Or live. I was carried first to a chair and then to a stretcher. I saw the light come and go and suddenly my vision was gone. The last thing I saw was the wallpaper of the ambulance ceiling. Clouds. And I remember deciding that it was simultaneously disgusting and hilarious. Time passed and suddenly I was in the hospital being undressed. āWhat do I do with this?ā He must have motioned towards the satanic pendant I wore around my neck. āTake it off,ā said the other. āWeāre going to get an IV going, ok?ā āShe wonāt care,ā someone insisted. āLauren! Lauren. Hey. Hey, should anyone know that youāre here?ā An immediate ānoā followed my nonexistent moment of contemplation. I was alone and I was ok with that. I could feel the needle enter my skin as I slipped in and out of consciousness in a seemingly endless loop. I began to shake. Everything became cold. I felt an odd awareness. And wondered how funny it mustāve seemed that the girl with āeverything onceā tattooed onto her rib cage was unconscious on a tableā¦her pendants and daring aura rendered useless. It wasnāt until that very instant that I realized perhaps no one had ever truly understood meāand that perhaps no one ever would. āHow is she?ā āSheās erratic,ā he replied. In that brief moment I realized that finally someone had seen me for what I was. However temporarily. And it all made sense. I suddenly understood why I could never be known. Why people donāt stay. And why I should let them leave. I donāt blame them for running. I would do the same. Iād run ceaselessly towards anything but my grave. I donāt want to die. Yet the faster I run the closer I inevitably come to my own undoing. And when the heated blanket was passed over me I slipped awayāindifferent to the clinging of my breaths to the cold, thin air between the roomās walls. After waking up I remember a brief exchange of words. I didnāt wonder what theyād had to do to keep me alive. Or whether or not I couldāve died. But I did wonder whether the following interaction had ever really happened. āWere those your friends that you showed up with?ā āYeah,ā I replied groggily. āThey said they didnāt know you.ā I didnāt look over. I was conscious but still aloof. Iāll never know if I were talking to myself. Or if there was someone there. And thatās ok, I think. Because even if that happened it wouldāve been entirely true. They donāt know me. And I donāt want to know them. So I suppose that wonāt ever change. A nurse came in. This I know for sure. She helped me change and asked if Iād gone to pee since my admittanceā¦as well as number of other equally baffling questions. She stopped when she realized my answers were all the same. I didnāt remember. āHey dad. Itās Lauren. Can you pick me up? Iām at the hospital.ā Life continued as if it had never stopped. And perhaps it hadnāt. I donāt intend to know. Iāve yet to tell my best friend about any of this. But heās not really my best friend, is he? Heās just a character playing a part. And I know all of his lines. Iāve memorized them thoroughly. He sleeps with a girl because sheās predictable. Perhaps heās my friend because heās also predictable. I had concluded a long time ago that Iām not depressed. This is simply the world I live in. The world I love. The beautiful, broken lens I stare through is mine to use for as long as I wish. And Iāve found serenity within its cracksābetween the distorted images. Everything Iāve ever needed. Itās all there. Iām not depressed. Iām living.
T.L.L. (via thelonelylyricist)
