Part Two

I didn't realize it had cut off part of my post last night. Here's the rest of it.

Upon seeing him in that bed, all that shit hooked up to him I was so close to losing it. I didn’t want him seeing how scared I was. I didn’t want him having to reassure me that everything was going to be ok. He was the one that needed a rock. I’m not going to get into all the medical details of what went down, that’s something that isn’t my personal information to give out. But it was not good. They ended up keeping him overnight; something he was not pleased with. I stayed with him, slipping out every so often to smoke and clear my head.

It was the longest night of my life, watching him. I prayed harder than I ever had in my short praying career. Some were selfish. I wanted him to be ok because I didn’t want to be without him. Many were just for whatever happened to not be permanent or do any lasting damage. I just wanted him to come out of it healthy. I just wanted him to be ok.

I didn’t sleep more than a half hour. I just sat and rubbed his leg, listening to him sleep. I wanted so much to crawl next to him and snuggle him more for my own comfort. It was the first night in a long time that we weren’t sleeping next to each other and that just felt strange. But he needed rest so I let him get as much as he could. It’s part of the reason why I’m writing this now. He’s sleeping and I’d just be tossing and turning.

So now we’re here. It wasn’t a heart attack, and it’s something related to the virus he had a few weeks ago. It’s not serious and it should just go away. Once we got settled back in the apartment, it was like any other night with him - full of laughter and foot slaps. He’s going to be ok.