The window. He went for the window. Two attempts in two days. He wanted to die, he did, really. He still does. He's crying into my chest still, clutching me as though i'm going to leave and not come back again. Like i could do that now. Like i could leave him. He's a part of me now, a part that i have to protect, i have to keep alive. His entire survival is down to me, i have to make sure he doesn't feel like that again. But his mothers no longer here, i cant give him the will to be. He would never just breathe, he would never owe me such a favour. Himself though. That should be more than enough, but he doesn't see himself as he actually is. And so, he won't live purely for himself.
S-she I-i promised... He repeats over and over again, barely getting his words out. Me barely understanding his pain filled cries. He starts to plead with me. Please. Please He doesn't say what he's pleading for but he's there. On the floor with me, pleading as though it's all he has left to give. And then i think for a split second, it could be. He only really has me now. He barely knows me but he knows i won't let him go, he's sure of that. And so am i, he is never going to leave if i can help it. I would make sure he ate. Id make sure he had everything and anything he had ever wanted, no matter the cost. Not only because of what he had been through and how quickly he was becoming so important to me but also because of the way i had treated him yesterday.
Calling him such vulgar things. Telling him he was pure filth, a plague in my home. How could i be so stupid? I hadn't bothered to listen to him yet i had the nerve to call him everything and anything that prostitutes were often referred too. It's an eye opener really. Before Frankie, i imagined all prostitutes as a group of middle aged or young women who had chose to do drugs and landed themselves nowhere but the grimy, haunting street corners. Now? I see a mixture of people from all different backgrounds, just trying to make money. Maybe to survive, provide for their kids, they're scared of getting beaten by those who empower them. So there's little choice, they have to live their lives and go on. Hating themselves, struggling to escape the vicious cycle they find their worthy yet lost souls trapped inside.
That's when i realise. I don't care about any of that stuff, i don't care about Frankie's past or present state of mind. Sure, fragile is dangerous. You never know how close to allow yourself to get, you never know what he may be thinking. But i know for sure what i am thinking. And i am thinking that he is a part of my future and if he allows it, i will be a part of his somehow.
We think you're safe to go home earlier than planned. We accept you need your space and privacy to grieve. However you will have to return for weekly check ups and we will be monitoring you very closely. First sign of pain or trouble you bring him straight back. The broad, tall man gestures to Gerard. It was just what i wanted. I should be fucking over the moon to be on my way home, but i'm not feeling a thing. Numbness is the extent to my emotions. If you could even call it that.
Thanks Gee smiles at the doctor. I like to call him that, i think it suit him better than Gerard. Although i love both, and the person holding both names even more so. He looks shifty. Treading very carefully in case he says something that upsets me. That could be anything right now, i can't think straight, there's just so much guilt inside me. Filling me right up to the brim. Weighing me down so i could drown in an ocean of my own tears as well as my mothers. The words are on his lips, but i know he won't ask me. I warned him, he should never ask someone such a thing.
Say anything. Just don't ask me how i am.