But that's what I did, my friend and I. After tossing the idea around and having second thoughts and cold feet and experiencing uncomfortable knots in my tummy, finally I decided to pluck the courage to face you. Let me tell you that it was no walk in the park. According to the wisdom of my mother, we should leave early to avoid the jam and hopefully go in and come out undetected by your circle of friends who might be dropping in on you for the day. Apparently we miscalculated and arrived an hour early before visiting hours. That didn't help one bit. My nerves were pushed into overdrive.
To pass the time we bought you a balloon, sat at a waiting area and talked about all the possible ways this meeting would go and laughed a little too loud for all the pent up nervousness we were feeling. Or at least, the nervousness I was feeling. After prayers we were just in time to see that the first batch of visitors disappear into the elevators, off to the various floors to visit their sick friends or family members.
My heart was beating fit to burst. In the elevator, I couldn't feel my knees. This is it, I kept thinking, do or die.
TING!
The doors of the elevator slid open. I was panicking. I told my friend that there was still time to go back. She told me not to be stupid. Right, I shouldn't be stupid. This was a golden opportunity to finally get a breakthrough after months of just exchanging glances and looking away and smiling silently to ourselves and being afraid of saying hi.
As I walked through the ward, I think my brain just shut down. Panic is a weird thing. After passing doors of sick people lying in bed, we finally chanced upon a sleeping body curled up with his back facing us. That person had visitors. She tugged at my sleeve hard, a wild look on her face.
"That's him."
"How do you know?" I asked.
"I know his friend, the one sitting on the left."
Oh. For a second I thought she could identify you by your ass. You have a cute ass, by the way. Just thought I should point it out.
We walked back down the hall and my panic level still didn't cease. Your friend came up to us.
"Are you here to see him? He's asleep. I'll wake him up. Wait for a while."
As we waited at the sitting area, I felt my heart leap to my throat as your friend waltzed in and announced that you'd woken up.
Walking down the hallway to your bed, I panicked more than ever. I pulled her to the side and started freaking out as silently as I could. I guess it took a while and that made you poke your head from the side to see what was going on. When you saw us, your forehead creased. I know what it must have looked like to you: My stalkers have successfully stalked me to this hospital and they know that I am helpless and vulnerable. Lol. I know. It was either that or you were like: My God, what are they doing here? They're not even my friends. How did they find out about what happened?
What we did was bold. I know. But sometimes irrationality is mistaken for boldness.
As I sat down, I noticed that your friends still hung around and that my friend was still standing, hovering by the chair, a dopey smile on her lips. What the hell is she doing, I thought desperately and prayed silently that she'd come to her senses and sit her ass down.
And the first question you thought of asking us was whose friends were we and how did we find out. Great. FML. For the record, I told the truth when I said that we found out from your friend who is a Facebook friend of ours from his status. At least we didn't come off as two psychopaths that have nothing better to do than monitor your daily activies based on updates from a social networking site.
Conversation from then on took a less awkward tone although she interacted with you more compared to me. As expected, most of the time, I sat in my chair like a fool in all my awkwardness that seems to come naturally around you.
You look extremely cute up close. My Baby Dinosaur. My Baby T-rex, clad in green and looking weak and defenseless, hugging his kees to his chest and trying his level best to hide his shyness. Beyond adorable. And extremely soft-spoken too. I had an impulse to hug you and never let go, to shield you from all the bad in the world and protect you from harm.
The one thing that made my existence feel worth while that day was the look on your face as I turned to leave. You were still staring at your knees as I picked up my bag and got ready to go, examining the balloon wedged in between you kneecaps like it was the most interesting invention in the history of mankind. She walked a head of me and didn't turn back, heading straight for the doors.
It'll be three weeks before I see you again. I looked back. One last time. You looked up from your knees and looked me straight in the eyes, a look of pure happiness. A stark contrast from the weak young man I just had a conversation with. It was beautiful.
I hope you enjoy your balloon and think of me whenever you hold it. Get well soon, my dear.
