Greg sat in his car, listening to the rain pattering against it, for a good half hour. He wasn’t apprehensive, or indecisive. He knew that this was what he needed. It was disappointing that he was taking several steps, several leaps, backward, and there was a voice in the back of his head telling him that this was going to be his life; that he’d never be better, and that he was going to die old and alone in a mental hospital. But, he’d long since learned to ignore those thoughts and feelings.
No, Greg lingered, because he wanted to savour the feeling of the outside world. Just being in close proximity of the hospital brought back vivid memories of the acrid taste of sterility to his tongue. Who could blame him for not being eager to return to a life under fluorescent lights?
Eventually, he dragged himself out of his car, and stumbled through the rain. At some point while he waited, he managed to bite back his tears, but as he stared at the growing building, they returned, and once he finally got inside, he couldn’t contain his despair any longer. Greg fell too his knees, and managed to say, “I need help,” through his sobs.
// @studyingsouls