I could tell he was mad even before I managed to force open my eyes. And I could see why. This shouldn't have happened. None of this should have happened. It's like, just as my life was finally okay, things fucked up again. And now he must hate me.
'Luke... I don't understand. Why did you do this to yourself?' He asked, and there was so much sadness, so much pain in his eyes.
My voice sounded weak even to my own ears. 'I didn't mean for it to get this far. I just... needed something to be in control of. It was like; my life was so shit I had to fix it in some way.'
'But of all things, you had to starve yourself? Luke, have you any idea how close you were to dying?' I shook my head, regretting it as it made me feel dizzy. 'I was talking to the doctors, earlier, and they told me. If I hadn't found you when I found you ... you were almost in a coma. How did you get that bad, without me noticing? Is it all my fault?'
'No, no, it's not your fault. And you did notice, remember? You were always telling me to eat more.'
He shook his head despairingly, looking at me through tear filled eyes, 'but it wasn't enough was it?' I wanted to reach out and comfort him, but I was so weak I couldn't even lift my arm. I settled for verbal reassurance instead.
'Hey, it's fine. You're not the one, who did this to me; who made me not eat. None of this is your fault. Without you, I'd probably be dead by now. So instead of feeling guilty, feel proud.'
He leaned forward until he was kissing me on the forehead. 'I love you, Luke.'
I smiled, and even though it hurt to do so, I leant forward into his kiss. 'I love you too man.'
And that was it for my strength. I fell back against the covers, exhausted even though I had done nothing that should have tired me out. I could tell he noticed, because he smiled slightly, and stood back. He was starting to look guilty again, so I groaned. 'Hey, I told you. This is not your fault. And in a way it's a good thing.'
He glared at me, shocked despite him. 'What do you mean, "It's a good thing?" How the fuck is this a good thing?'
'At least we're not enemies anymore. And at least I'm not crazy any more either. The voices have completely gone.'
He looked disturbed. 'What do you mean, "The voices"?'
'Oh,' I said uncomfortably. 'Did I not tell you about them?'
'Well, recently I've been ... hearing voices. In my head. Telling me to do stuff.'
'What? What kind of stuff?' he asked, grabbing my hand anxiously.
'Don't – don't worry about it. It's not like I ever listened to them anyway.' I said, untruthfully. He must have caught me on my bluff though, as he stared at me again.
'Luke, not to worry you or anything, but you are the one lying here in a hospital bed, recovering from anorexia, after just telling me that you've had voices in your head telling you to do stuff. Forgive me if it sounds like you have been listening to them.'
I sighed. 'Whatever. That doesn't matter. None of this matters anymore,' I said, using a sudden burst of strength to grab his hand and pull him down onto the bed next to me. 'You still love me, don't you?'
'Yes,' he said, not knowing where this was going.
'Then if you love me, I can cope with all the rest.'
'So you're going to get better?' he asked hopefully.
'Yes. I'll do it for you.'
And then we just sat in silence for a while; peaceful silence. It was nice, even though I was so exhausted. It was the best I'd felt in ages – ever since me and him had gotten together in the first place.
'Luke?' he asked hesitantly after the silence started to get uncomfortable.
'Do you promise the voices have gone?'
'Yes...?' I wasn't sure where he was going with this.
'Okay.' There was silence again – I didn't break it though, as it looked like he was about to say something. 'Luke, can I ask you something?'
'You just did, but yes...?'
He took a deep breath, looking strangely anxious again. 'You know those voices?'
'Yes, I do.'
'Did they ... they're not the reason why you love me are they? I mean, it's not because of them that you want to go out with me, is it?'
'No, of course not, I love you because I love you, not because some fucking voice in my head told me to. And that's the truth.' I said solemnly.
'But... are the voices the reason why you ... why you got like this?' he asked, gesturing at my limp frame.
I didn't want to answer, but I felt I owed it to him. 'Partly.'
'Partly?' he asked, obviously not expecting that.
'What do you mean, "Partly"?'
'Look,' I said staring straight into his eyes. 'Are we really going to go into this now? I mean, everything is finally okay again. I don't want to bring up shit from the past.'
'Okay,' he said. 'But you will tell me one day. Soon.' His eyes made it impossible to refuse. 'Promise.'
'I promise,' I said, knowing I would regret it. But I didn't care. That didn't matter; none of that mattered. It was like what I'd said earlier. With him in my life, I oculd get better. I was scared to have to tell him why, though – why this happened. But I would take that day as it came.
Thinking about why this had happened, made me think about how this had happened, where it had all started. I was shocked to realise how little time had gone by since the start of this. I could literally remember every single day.
And not all of them were good ones.