For a Cancer Patient

You couldn't even make it to the bathroom door before the contents of your stomach spilled out upon the linoleum. I raced to your side to hold back your hair or rub your back or anything really. So I wouldn't feel completely useless. It was then between the "It's okay" and the "I love you"s that I noticed it. That crimson red that had so long been banished from our house spotted the floors.

I began to sob for what I knew was coming and you from embarrassment. We slumped to the floor and hopelessly held each other and cried. Probably for hours. And then you told me that everything was fine. That we were going to be fine. That you were going to be fine. Lying through your teeth. I could see right through you. But I forced myself to believe you because if not I would surely have fallen apart. Disintegrated. And you needed me.

That night as we lay in bed you thought I couldn't hear you. That I was asleep. Even your pillows couldn't cover your muffled sobs and silent prayers. I hope you couldn't hear mine. You then picked yourself up to go to the bathroom. I took that time to slam my fists into my pillow. Ask God why. We were good people. We were in love. Past tense.

That night you didn't come back to bed. I found you a few hours later hunched over the with those familiar crimson puddles around you. No emotion. I was empty. And I began to pinch myself because this had to be a dream. It wasn't. I began to think of all of the places I had gone terribly wrong. Where I could have helped you more. And then I stopped myself. To remember you. And where we had gone terribly right.



Okay this one is complete word vomit and I understand If you're like 'WHAT?!' cause I sort of am to. But yeah. This is it. This is what I was feeling and what I wrote down. Thoughts?