Come on Gerard, spit it out!
I sat next to Frank’s silent form, gently stroking his hair. After I had pulled myself together the doctor had told me everything that could happen to Frank. The tumor was on the right side of his brain, which meant that soon he would lose coordination on his left side of his body. He warned me that Frank could also go blind so I had to watch out for him constantly. As soon as Frank awakened I was allowed to take him out of the hospital. We only had to return once a week to drain the fluid from his head to prevent his headaches from returning. I had the feeling that the doctor just wanted Frank’s last few weeks to be the best he had ever had, and that would never happen if he was stuck in a hospital. He had assured me multiple times that there was nothing that he could do without killing Frank. My insides were filled with pain as I repeated those words “nothing he could do.” He had explained that if he even attempted to cut through Frank’s skull that the intense pressure would move his brain and kill him instantly. I sobbed quietly to myself as the hopeless situation hit me full in the face. I felt so guilty. I had known about Frank’s headaches for ages and I had never expected them to be anything serious.
“What’s wrong baby?” a soft voice asked. I quickly wiped my tears away and looked into Frank’s questioning eyes.
“Where am I?” Frank wondered.
“You’re in a hospital Frankie,” I answered, but I was unsure of how to continue.
“Aww, are you okay Gerard?” Frank was generally distressed. “I know how much you hate hospitals."
With those words I broke down into tears. Frank was dying and here he was worrying about my fear of hospitals.
“Gerard, what is it,” he asked with worry in his voice. “Please tell me.” I shook my head no and continued to weep. Frank crawled out of bed and gave me a gentle kiss on the cheek. I turned to him and kissed him full on the mouth. He leaned into me, deepening the kiss. I was so wonderful and I never wanted it to stop. I could feel his cold lip ring pressed against my mouth. As we pulled away, I clutched Frank tightly to me.
“Are you going to tell me?” Frank popped the question, smiling innocently.
“Frank…I…you,” I stumbled over my words.
“Come on Gerard, spit it out!” Frank teased.
“Frank you’re dying!” I said in a harsh, rushed tone. The look of shock on his face was too much. I buried my face into his shoulder, desperate to escape this horrible place.
I'm going to keep writing regardless, but I would love some input now and then.