Beginning of the End

This is the beginning to a whole story...it's kind of like the prologue to what I hope to make a pretty long story...who knows if that ever works out.
-----------------------------------------------
Nineteen is far too young for someone to be in this condition, Dan found himself repeatedly thinking to himself. He sat in the waiting room, cold. These places are so cold and depressing, was another thought that ran through his head, I mean do they even want you to have a glimmer of happiness? He was going on roughly forty-five minutes of sleep withing the past forty-eight hours, and it showed. He had left his chair twice within those hours, both times to use the restroom. He was on a first-name basis with two of the nurses and had already memorized every single poster in the room. By now he had learned from various magazines the proper Heimlich maneuver techniques, the importance of CPR, Britney Spears' latest escapades, and that Jesus Christ resurrected himself in the form of a baby named Stanley. Dan read until his eyes began to burn and tear and he was not sure if he was really crying or not.

On both bathroom trips he refused to look into his own eyes and see what exactly his restlessness over the past two days had made him look like. He could tell from the questioning looks of the nurses, and the different mother's pulling their children away from his general direction, that his appearance must not be very good at all. His dirty blond hair was disheveled from the numerous amount of times he ran his fingers through it because of stress. His bloodshot green eyes would remind people of Christmas, they were that vibrant. He had the slightest bit of scruff from not shaving in a week. Add in paleness, chapped lips, bobbing off to sleep on a few random occasions, and the average person would think that Dan should be a patient instead of a visitor.

His eye lids were weighing down, his head was pounding like a drum, and he was not sure if he could last another hour. Dan began to stare off into the distance, finding himself in another place, another time. He heard a laugh, unmistakable, he felt arms around his neck, he could not help but smile, and in the distance it was a whisper Dan...He knew that voice anywhere, he smiled more, because he knew his name was being said with a smile. The arms around his neck were on his shoulder and shaking harder and harder, and his name was no longer being said with a whisper and a smile, "Dan!!" He blinked and the tears from keeping his eyes open from that long. "Are you okay? Do you need help?" He looked next to him and saw another tired face, another man going on no sleep, but without even looking at himself, Dan knew the other man looked better than he did.
"Hey..." He rubbed his eyes to wake himself up even more.
"You alright, you weren't even answering for five minutes," Ryan still had his hand on Dan's shoulder . Ryan had short dark black hair, that was sticking up in all sort of directions at this point. His piercing green eyes were staring Dan down in a worrisome look.
"Yeah man, I'm just fine," Dan moved back forcing Ryan to take his hand off of him. Dan sighed a little as he rubbed his eyes once more. "Have you heard anything yet?" Ryan shook his head and sighed as well, leaning back in his seat.
"I talked to one of the nurses and she said the doctors are going to get back to us within the hour," Ryan wasn't looking at Dan, just off into a daze like Dan had just been a few minutes ago. When Ryan finally looked back at Dan he saw that he could barely keep his eyes open anymore. "Go on home, take a nap and relax," He put his hand back on Dan's shoulder but Dan just moved it off.
"I just need some fresh air," Dan sat up and found himself wobbling a little and the room spinning. Ryan jumped up to help but Dan put a hand up, "I just need air, that's all."

The air immediately outside the hospital automatic doors hit Dan like a brick to the face. It was cold, but he was already so numb that he did not regret not bringing his jacket outside. The wind to his face made his eyes tear even more, but it was clearing them out as well so he didn't mind the least bit. The New York City winter air was refreshing compared to the bleak inside of the hospital. He was taking deep breaths just so he could see his own breath in the night sky. He loved this city with all his heart, he loved looking up on clear nights being able to catch a glimpse at some stars, right above the towering buildings. However, he always hated how small he could feel with just one look at his surroundings. Just by walking down a street he could go from feeling on top of the world, to realizing he was completely insignificant in this world. That feeling usually haunted him on normal nights, but tonight was not normal. It was a night where he did not want to feel insignificant to anyone, he wanted the world to know his problems and make them go away. He did not want this pain anymore, and he wanted all of New York City to know. It's not fair, ran through his head over and over again and nothing was changing his mind. It's not fair. It's not fair.

Dan walked off the property of the hospital to the end of their driveway to a busy city street. New Yorkers were passing by indifferent to the world around them. That's how he usually was, but he wanted to grab them and beg them to listen to him. He wanted to be cared for by one of them, anybody. He was normally not like this, he did not like this desperation and wanted it to go away. He normally was not this whiny about his life, he never would have if it weren't for one event to change it all. He found himself leaning against a wall of the outside of the hospital looking at the people passing him by, eventually sitting on the cold cement. He heard bells and a group a little ways down the block singing some Christmas songs, and a soft smile crept to his face. People were looking into the windows of shops and all bundled up in coats, hats, scarves, and gloves. Then there was him sitting in jeans and white, worn in t-shirt. He breathed in the fresh December air as he closed his eyes and put his head back against the wall. He looked up and there he saw it, a tiny, white, flurry.
Seeing that little white spec made him smile even bigger. He looked down the street and saw a little girl pulling on her fathers coat and pointing up to the flurries in the light. People found themselves smiling and looking up at the street lights to see the flurries, in more abundance now, come down. An entire city block united for a whole five minutes before an ambulance raced into the hospitals drive way to interrupt the entire joyous moment. His white shirt was flashing red and blue as he gazed down at his hands, but when he looked back up he saw something caught his eye.
A man was helping a woman out of a cab across the street. He was holding her hand and after she climbed her way out of the car he kissed her cheek. She smiled back at him and took his hand in hers and off they went. Dan's smile was wiped off his face and he looked down at his own hands. You're such a gentleman. He heard the same laugh that he heard in the hospital, echoing through his brain. He heard the whisper of his name again, and he looked back over at the ambulance, as a young girl was being taken out of the ambulance. He swallowed hard wondering if her eyes were open and she could see the snow falling, and if she could, if it made her smile, if it gave her more hope to be strong.
He wasn't as numb anymore and began to get extremely cold. The couple he was looking at across the street were already half way down the street, out of sight. He looked back up at the towering buildings, the feeling of insignificance overcoming him once again. Nineteen is far too young for someone to be in this condition. He closed his eyes and let the snow hit his face, the cold hitting him harder and harder with every snowflake. Nineteen is far too young for someone to be in this condition. He was so consumed with his own repetitive thoughts that he didn't feel the warm tear roll down his face. He looked back at the hospital automatic doors and felt helpless and insignificant again. Nineteen is far too young for someone to be in this condition. He saw the snow fall through the lights and all he wanted was a different snowy day, any day but tonight would be better. Nineteen is far too young for someone to be in this condition.

I wish I even could have something to lose...

God that was strange to see you again
Introduced by a friend of a friend
Smiled and said 'yes I think we've met before'
In that instant it started to pour,
Captured a taxi despite all the rain
We drove in silence across Pont Champlain
And all of the time you thought I was sad
I was trying to remember your name...

This scar is a fleck on my porcelain skin
Tried to reach deep but you couldn't get in
Now you're outside me
You see all the beauty
Repent all your sin

It's nothing but time and a face that you lose
I chose to feel it and you couldn't choose
I'll write you a postcard
I'll send you the news
From a house down the road from real love...

Live through this, and you won't look back...
Live through this, and you won't look back...
Live through this, and you won't look back...

There's one thing I want to say, so I'll be brave
You were what I wanted
I gave what I gave
I'm not sorry I met you
I'm not sorry it's over
I'm not sorry there's nothing to save

I'm not sorry there's nothing to save...

The Things I Wish For:

The Things I wish For:

Live concerts.
Endless talks about nothing.
Staying in bed all morning long
Day dreaming the day away.
Holding a hand
At the end of a rough day.
Pages and pages of books.
Words to write
With worlds to escape to.
Freshly copied paper
Warm to my skin.
Love so strong
It never fades.
Pictures. Memories. Dreams.

the nonboyfriend

I’ve been singing you a song in my dreams,
You don’t know it’s for you yet but I wish you could.
Then you’d let me know if this is how I should feel,
Or whether or not this is even real.

See there’s this someone who graces my dreams,
There’s this someone who makes me feel
Me feel unlike any other.
But he’s not here tonight.

It’s kind of sad to admit it,
But the truth is he doesn’t even exist.
I’ve met him once or twice
In a recurring dream,
That comes to me every once in awhile.

See there’s this someone who graces my dreams,
There’s this someone who makes me feel
Me feel unlike any other.
But he’s not here tonight.

So I’ll keep singing you this song,
Wondering when you’ll hear
And you’ll hear and find your way to me.
If only this was the dream that came true.
If only the truth was fake and you were real.
But for now I’ll sing you this song…

Writer

My pen hit the paper and it glides across as if it were Michelle Kwan on the ice. I squeeze the pen harder and am so excited to get the words down that I think I'm skipping entire sentences. I don't remember the last time I made sense, but the excitement is building too much in me that I don't have time to reread. It doesn't matter though, because to me this ink splattered page makes sense. These are my emotion coming from places deep within. I like how it feels after I take it all out on a small, red, leather bound book. It's as if I just vented to friend for an hour, a very small friend, who can't talk back. My hand cramps up, my fingers ache like they were punching something. I travel to new worlds, and I like, with everything that's lived in my brain since I was five. There's everything here from romance and rebellion, to countries whose names I've only read on maps in the back of History class. This is my world, my place to vent, this is where I go when I just want to escape. My wrist aches as I let go of the pen, and my fingers feel as if they were growing callouses like I was climbing up a mountain or something. I hear two large cracks from my hands as I push them together, and I smile. I feel refreshed, content, and renewed as I look down. I don't read, just close the little book and put my own little universe back in it's home, hidden away from the rest of the world, the real world.

Acoustic Hot Days

So maybe I’ve got a lot to learn
Or maybe I’m just hanging on my words
Or maybe it’s not a big concern
But if I raised my hand
Would I understand why I’m better with you?

So maybe there’s not a lot to say
Or maybe I’m wrong doing things my way
Or maybe things will be okay
If I get it together
And do something clever
But make it better with you


So tell me where did I go wrong before you
Before you came along
Well, it seems like I was lost
You showed me how to do things right
Now I’m so glad that now you’re mine

So let me say it all again…

So maybe there’s not a lot to do
Or maybe I’m just making myself confused
Or maybe I’ve got nothing to lose
But if I get out of line,
Just tell me you’re mine,
And how I’m better with you


So use me, don’t let me screw it up
I believe you and I need your touch
Just a little spice of you
Could never be too much
I believe you and I need you now
To make it better some how
You make it better some how

discontent.

I love how I can be cranky about virtually anything, really. That's such a great talent to have...not.

I feel like I'm justified in this though.
It amazes how much people take others for granted. One day I'm practically dying, and you know...NEWSFLASH. That shock and fear does not wear off. I know this is selfish, but I thought after that whole almost dying thing people would maybe respect you more, not take you for granted...or hey even remember you're still there.
Instead I get like a few minutes of "Ah I'm so happy you're still alive" and then just over the fact that I was almost dead! Why do people have to be so "oh yeah...but I just don't want to spend time with you anyway"

I know this is all extremely selfish, and I really need to work on that, but I'm frustrated and I can't help it. Maybe I just wish I got over everything as fast as others can.