Chapter Sixteen: Feeling

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School let out early today, and while its tempting to spend time with the guys or Rebecca, I opt out of both. I can't recall if there has been a day so far this semester that I haven't spent time in the company of others. Ever since my dad signed the DNR I've found any and every reason to avoid being alone.

I don't want to feel.

I don't want to face the part of me that hides behind the athlete, man-whore, friend, and boyfriend personas I have embraced.

Yet, here I am.

After classes let out, I came straight to the hospital. This wasn't planned. In fact, I just wanted to vibe to some music on a drive through the mountains. I wanted to try a different escape.

Now, I am parked in a spot at the hospital facing a lake that stretches out so far that I can't see the other side. I can't tell where it ends but I know that it does indeed have an end-- like my dad.

He apologized for signing the DNR before asking me about it. I forgave him but my chest still carries a weight of anger every time I come to visit.

Am I really angry? Or, am I just scared?

Tears well up along the rims of my eyes. At first, I try to blink them away. I even reach for my phone with the intention of scrolling through social media to distract-- escape.

"Fuck," I sigh, tossing my phone into the backseat and running my hands down my face.

I sit in silence just gazing out at the lake.

I feel.

Little droplets of water skate and tickle down my cheeks. I almost think that rain is falling in through my sunroof until the liquid reaches my lips and it's salty flavor assures me that I'm just crying.

I'm not angry.

I'm terrified.

I haven't ever lost someone close to me to death before, but I've seen it happen to my friends. All of them. As tough as they are. A single loss was almost enough to destroy them, especially Jack and Pat.

People insist that time heals but my friends have been suffering for years.

I don't want to see my dad die.

I don't want to answer that phone call.

I don't want to hear my mom mourn, or have to explain to Luke that dad isn't going to ever come home again.

I can't even imagine having to.

A funeral? Strangers will give their condolences, send cards, and leave voicemails. People will want to visit and check in.

"Cameron?" my dad's voice interrupts my thoughts.

I slightly jump, not remembering when I got out of my car to come inside. Frowning, I glance around his hospital room wondering how long I've been here and rub my eyes thankful when my hands are dry. My stuffy nose is the only proof I have that I didn't just dream that I was in my car crying.

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