The blood is back in his veins; he can face anything now, even hospital food. A passing nurse reminds him of her a bit, the shower he is finally strong enough to take is gratifyingly warm.
Oh dear, I could really go for this guy...He is all that. But does he want me? Or the symbolic trophy that is me? She, confused, retreats to the bathroom to sit and breathe. It almost seems like he is everywhere around her already.
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Someone's blood is inside me, others are keeping me alive. He senses this and feels new, or at least newish. His steps are still slow, as slow as the patient clock. The chill has worn off, the dizzy uncertainty replaced with a kind of calm. He sleeps there one more night and dreams that she is with him, but then she leaves, passing out herself from exhaustion, an open box beside her when he finds her. He looks in the box: there is nothing there.
I must get back to her. His eyes open, to blue-black darkness.
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He worries, as he waits for his bottles to arrive, of what she may have done and may well be doing. Does she even remember him? How he didn't have much but ran and ran to win her? She, the most valuable prize of all, kind of in awe of him, maybe a bit patronizing...at first. He has enough confidence to know she is still around, but also knows her well enough to know that she is not like that girl made of stone come to life. She is human, unhappy with his absence and has perhaps given up. He can't give up; after nearly dying he cannot but hope.
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Once he is able to leave he calls on his old friend, who is sneakier than him and most certainly laxer in all ways - to crash at his place as he recuperates beyond what the hospital deems an appropriate time to have him around. "You still look at bit rough, son, come on over. You still pining over her? You know she's not been seen looking for you for a while now. Aw, don't be sad, she's going to be okay. I'm going to a party tomorrow night, wanna come?" He smiles. "Sure, just don't expect me to do the watusi or anything." "Fine, windypants."
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"You know, there's nothing worse than trying and failing but how else are you gonna know anything? A lot of guys come back and their girls are gone, maybe for you it will be different. I know the right one is out there for me, I just have to keep looking. It's worse for you because you know damn well she is there-" "So you say," he sighs, "and she should be there, I know. I know. But how about if I show up and have to get in a fight all over again? Last thing I need, right now, and although you are a fine man, I don't want you to be a substitute for me. I don't know, I just feel like I'm being invoked all the time and it's starting to make me weird out a little bit." "You have to learn to relish that, that feeling. If only I could have that. Oh well."
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