The nurse tells me that I should stay the night, just to make sure there were no complications. There are six beds surrounding me, three on each side of the room, two are full. I draw the curtain closed and try to make myself comfortable, it’s pointless. I sigh and sit up, beginning an audio book I’ve been meaning to get to. That’s when I hear a clicking noise slowly approaching me, it sounds like the tap of acrylic nails against the stone cold floor. Then my curtain begins to slide open, “who is it?” I inquire, not quite frightened. “I just wanted to say hi.” I see two bright blue eyes staring up at me. A little girl, missing both legs offers something in the palm of her hand. I thank her and take it gently, curious. I observe it closely it looks to be some sort of stone, I place it next to the bed then found myself falling asleep. I was awoken suddenly when a shrill voice started yelling about “My rock!” “My rock!” My curtain is ripped open violently, I sit up, startled, she looks as if she’s about to pounce on me, and ad just as she does a group of four police officers grab her, and drag her out of the room. That was the last I hear of her and that little girl. I’m telling the story to my kids as I fiddle with the rock between my fingers.

Oh to grow old with someone. To trace your hands lovingly over the same face. To come home and lay with someone who offers the same sense of safety and comfort you so long for. To hold the hands of someone you couldn’t live without. To know that you will never have to fight for them to love you. To get butterfly’s when they walk in the room and sigh with relief when you realise you are home to each other. To dance in the rain with no care for the people watching, giggling, cringing, or holding their hands to their hearts thinking , ‘’Oh to grow old with someone.’’

This walkway felt familiar, i knew it so well yet I couldn’t quite pick where I had memorised the narrow halls. Every door I tried to open was locked, “figures”, I whispered to myself as the sound of the door rattling echoed through the building. I walked slowly down the never ending corridor, my footsteps sounded so lonely. The door at the end of the hallway was the only one so far that was illuminated, by a single lightbulb swinging softly. I knew this door, I ran my eyes over the bright red foam letters “Madison” it spelt. Now the eerie silence was accompanied with a familiarity, a familiarity of home and family dinners, my long passed pets and the warmth out home brought. Despite all the happy memories, I’m still glad I escaped.

You never asked, but no I don’t miss you , (Sometimes your a thought in my mind On semi dark nights in a moonlit room and the shadows mimic your smile) You never asked, but no I don’t miss you (Sometimes, when the wind rattles through the paper on my wall I hear your laughter ) You never asked, but yes I care about you, Every minute of every hour of every day You never asked, but yes I noticed you wear your hair out more and your style has changed Yes, I noticed you put eyeliner on your waterline and you’ve started wearing mascara Yes, I noticed you still hold that sad look in your eyes Yes, I noticed your happier and you get more hugs then you used to Yes, I’ve noticed you’re alone a lot more Yes, I’ve noticed I miss you

Memory breathes. But not your memory, It gasps for air. As I push it as far under the water as possible, Our memory is drowning.

I stood, frozen as they swarmed in, metal clinking and their voices loudly rumbling. If I had slept at all last night I don’t know I could be sure that this was reality. It felt like every movie scene when the killer gets busted. But I wasn’t the killer. I knew they had to come sooner or later, but it didn’t make this sudden sense of helplessness any easier to process. I was pushed to the ground, hard, I could hear him screaming but his words were slurred in my ears. I didn’t do anything. This was a losing game from the beginning. But I love her.

I was never an early riser Until I was up to answer your texts I never never up late Until talking to you was more important I always took photos Until you didn’t like it I was always myself Until I changed for you.

The world will burn. At least that’s what I thought When you left It felt as if the world would fall In ash and rubble at my feet But not at yours. Because you were fine You didn’t miss me Not like I missed you anyways You had them But just as always if they ever hurt you The world will burn.

Freedom is a strange thing, An idealised result of all the things that trapped you. Freedom does not come with the person, Who holds you close, Makes you laugh until tears peak your eyes. Freedom comes when you discover the things they gave you can still be found without them. The same joy you found with them is the same joy that can be found, When I butterfly leaves it’s perch, When the clouds are a brighter white, When you discover your favourite song again. When you find yourself without them, That is freedom.

I watched you with them. I watched you do the same things. I watched you make the same jokes. I wonder if you thought of me. I wonder if you held our memories close like I do. I wonder if you ever miss me. I hope you never forget me. I hope you look at our old messages and wish we would talk again. I hope it hurts. I forget how seeing you makes me want to cry. I forget how it felt to look at you and smile. I forget how it was before you hated me.

We pass each other. That fake smile neither of us mean. “Hey” “hello” I watched you smile with them. I wonder how you looked so ok. I hope you saw me and remember who we were together.

Sometimes I forget how easy it was to say hello to a stranger.