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All I could think about was that quote by Richard Siken. Would that happen to me? Would I fall to the ground crying because I had lost someone I love and feel ridiculous because I realize the wall isn’t painted very well? Probably not. I would probably notice something else ridiculous. All I’ve been doing the past three hours is stare at this hospital waiting room wall. The walls are painted perfectly, as far as I can tell, with the only imperfections being nicks and scratches from years of chairs banging against. I’ve been trying to focus on literally anything other than what is happening currently, but the TV stopped working a while ago. My options were the wall, the floor, my hands, or my feet. I didn’t want to stare at my hands, because then I would be able to see how sweaty and clammy they are and how they shake instead of just feeling it. And staring at my feet would let me see my leg bouncing up and down like it’s got something to prove. And staring at the floor would let me see both in my peripherals at the same time. All of them would remind me of the situation I’m trying to avoid thinking about, so the wall is my best option. But the wall is just reminding me of that damn quote.
Nothing is helping me avoid this situation if we’re being honest. I can’t escape. I would leave this room, but I can’t stand the thought of not being here, just in case. I have to be here. I wouldn’t be able to stand anything else. What if something happens? I can deal with a stupid white wall, and thinking about a stupid quote, and looking like a crazy person with shaking hands and a bouncing leg. I wouldn’t be able to deal with leaving only to find out the doctors are looking for me because everything went all wrong and the only thing I can do is say goodbye. There is no other option than staying here. And you know what? I might end up embodying that damn quote, but hopefully not. All I know is it’s not up to me anymore.