I can hear you

Can you hear me?

Acne's back. That's ok.

And just now I just stepped on something.

It was a cheeto.

The proverbial cheeto.

On the floor. Of my life.

This is what happens.

You haven't lost your dignity, Tommy.

And the people who love you - they haven't lost their dignity, either.

Everyone is excused.

Dignity. It's a state of mind.

It's where you're standing.

Personally?

My life is a mess.

There's laundry climbing all down the hallway. Like a path of fallen leaves.

Fallen laundry.

That's where it goes.

In the hallway.

I always wanted a hallway.

It was years and years. But I finally got one.

Hallways. Piles of books.

I have nothing to eat.

Nothing clean to wear.

Nothing to take this out of my mind.

I have plenty of cigarettes, though.

I told you today that the blanket has to be straight in order not to have bad dreams.

This wasn't a lot of bullshit shop talk.

What I've learned is that I am torturing myself.

I let the bed be all crazy and I sleep in it that way.

I don't want to make it nice.

Not without you.

I don't care.

I can't make it nice.

and no I DON'T WANT TO TAKE CARE OF ME.

Everyone keeps telling me to take care of me.

To take a bubble bath.

Everyone says bubble bath.

No.

I can't take a buble bath right now.

And there is no glass of wine (big enough).

I can't. Really.

Stop it. Not now.

I don't want to.

Not without you.

I want you here.

I was fine before I met you.

I was fine after I met you.

But I am not fine when you are hospitalized. re tom curtis

My bed. My job. My bills. My bath. My life. My kitten.

I will catch up.

You?

What has happened to you?

I can't ask.

I've had opportunities. To ask. This week. Today.

I can't.

I should. The way you look at me sometimes.

I can see it in your eyes.

You're safe. Everyone loves you..

And I almost ask.

But I can't.

I don't want to push.

I don't want to hurt you.

You can tell me anything..

This morning you needed help standing up and as I steadied you - you said something.

And I heard you. I heard your voice.

Later it was explained to me. But at that moment I was astounded.

I wondered if I hadn't imagined it.

If I hadn't finally become so (crazy) accoustomed to things - that I was able to fill in the gaps.

If I wasn't "hearing" things.

And no one was around when this happened.

When you became audible.

And it was hours before there was an explaination regarding the "just what" of your audilble voice.

..Wait! What did you say? Did you hear yourself, too?

You did. You nodded. But you were unimpressed.

Your voice.

You've heard it all along. The fact that we can't is curious and frustrating to you.

Your voice. Of course, your voice.

How I've missed your voice.

Slowly, one by one, your voice-mail messages have been eliminated by my asshole cell phone.

I kept hitting save.

But each day one more would be gone.

And there was nothing I could do to stop it.

Then, one last voice-message hung on by a thread. For a while.

I don't know why.

So I listened to it. Quite a bit.

Knowing it would go the way of the other messages.

Then it did. Last week.

Poof.

Sometimes out of nowhere you ask me if I'm ok.

Am I ok?

And just for that I have to kiss you a million times.