So I'm pretty sure this is post 35 for the day - and I know no one is going to waste their time reading all the silly thoughts I had while sitting in a hospital bed for two weeks - which is why, when I get some more strength, I plan on working on/finishing my book instead of writing blog entry after blog entry.
I can't get the image of two phrases out of my head ,"He likes me more than he ever liked her," and the part about the sugar water and hypoglycemia as a reference to being "supportive." Not the same thing. And I don't know why I can't get them out of my head.
Maybe it's because I'm so afraid I will never find someone who wants to put up with the CF and the hospital and... well... me.
And I write about that a lot. Probably too much. You are probably banging your head on the desk right now telling me to shut up about the dating already!
I'm in the same room I was in when I had my surgery in last year. The room when I so desperately wanted to see my family when I got back from surgery and my then-boyfriend walked into the room and I went, "There's a family!"
And I miss what I had with him - I don't miss him because the two of us would never work together - but I miss having someone here at night, which is the hardest for me. During the day the nurses and doctors and RT are in all the time to interrupt my depressing train of thought, but at night - when the time is all mine, I get sad.
I know I have to be here to get better. I just wish... I don't know what I want. Dating is such a hassle. Maybe I just want to stop wanting something more. I want to be happy by myself - I want to not wish for someone to hold me. Someone to wander the empty halls with. Someone to cuddle me to sleep in the teeny tiny hospital bed. I want to stop wanting that.
France won the World Cup and all I got was a lesson in how to chill out - On Sunday I befriended a 20-year-old French kid named Etienne while sitting on the concrete railing of a walkway leading down to the Seine. We were gathere...
4 days ago