Are you there, Liz? The heart monitor says you are. But are you still breathing? Even with the subtle rise and fall of your chest, I’m not so sure. Is your soul intact? That, I have no way of knowing. The doctors killed the poison you put inside yourself, but I suspect the damage has been done. Or maybe you thought you were healing yourself, undoing some pain that was already there.
Why didn’t you tell me? I thought we were supposed to always be there for each other. Was I a bad friend? You could have told me—you can tell me anything, I promise.
What did I miss? A lot, clearly. Why didn’t I see this coming? I should have. I really, really should have.
This is all I have. Questions without answers. Nothing useful, nothing that guarantees you’re going to wake up. I’d give anything to look into your eyes again. But until you open them to me, it’s just a frail dream.
Dreams. That’s all I have these days, I guess. Dreams that we’ll be friends forever, just like you, me, and the others promised all those years ago. Dreams that we’ll all go out there and do whatever the fuck we want. Dreams that I’m not sure even matter anymore.
Would you trade your dreams with mine? Maybe that would help. Share your burden with me, I beg you. Just wake up and talk to me, Liz. Please.