Rainy Nights & Moving Forwards

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Most people wouldn't remember anything while in a hospital bed with needles in their arms and a mask over their face.

But I remembered it vividly.

I remembered the coldness at first as I laid there. Nurses had buzzed around me, assessing everything wrong with my body. I could hear their worried tones, and I could hear the second hand of the clock. It seemed to tick twice as slow. I listened to each tick, hoping they'd drift me off to sleep.

I remembered the pains shooting through my body that night. The cuts on my legs felt like pins constantly scraping across my skin. The bruises on my face felt like an everlasting weight being pressed onto me. The medicines in my stomach felt like they'd never work.

And most importantly, I remember him. I knew when he entered the room, because it got a little warmer. Time sped up. The ringing in my ears stopped. He brought me a sense of protection and closure, but I couldn't bear to open my eyes and look at him. But I gladly let him touch me. His hand held mine, and the same electric sparks from the first time he kissed me soared through my skin, waking me up from my daydream, screaming at me what the hell have you been doing?

I remember that in that moment, I realized I still love Isaac Richards.

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