life

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She was giving him the option to let off steam. That in itself ease some of his tension. Nobody had offered him so clearly their attention, or at least their presence for him to feel like somebody was listening. He'd known her for a few minutes and here she was, being the best friend he'd never had. That alone was enough to get the tears coming, one after the other, trickling down his pale face. He held onto the mug tight, out of reflex rather than anything.
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Machina took a few deep breaths and calmed himself, chomping down on his lower lip to stop it from quaking. The clear blue of the sky seemed to work to sooth as he looked up, tracing the feint outlines of would-be clouds racing across the sky above. If the pressure of his mental state had had a physical presence in him, he could swear he would have exploded by now.
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“Will you hear me out?” She'd already said she would, so all he was doing was giving her a warning, before he sipped from his mug and began to process his thoughts. Put the pieces in the right order. Cut out the stuff that still scarred too deep to discuss in open air, that would pin any blame on someone. Just him and his emotions, the fickle, wild animals that couldn't stay tamed behind a cage.
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“I'm in a hospital right now,” he began, letting the words fall out. “I can't control when I'm plugged or unplugged. The doctors keep me under for as long as they can. Problem is, the more I'm unplugged, the more unstable my condition gets. My head, it...” he took another breath to soothe. “It's rejecting my body. For about two years now, I've been in hospital, trying to hold on. But the seizures...there's so many of them now. Stronger, longer, unpredictable. And my family, they...couldn't take it. The pressure. The money had dried up. So they left. Went to Europe. Sold all my stuff, burned everything else. I didn't get a goodbye. Just like...” he stopped and looked at her.
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What was he even doing? This wasn't what anybody wanted to hear. It was almost lunacy. His whole situation was absurd and unreal. It was hard for anyone to wrap their heads around the concept. Him trying to explain didn't make it any easier. He was so used to it in a terrified, dread-filled way that he'd lost sight of the obvious points.
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“A few weeks ago, I was supposed to met someone. She was close to me. Everything to me. Someone told her to stay away and I think that...maybe if they hadn't told her to stay away, I'd have had a chance to see her again. Maybe...maybe she'd still be here.” He lifted the mug to his lips to stop himself from dragging on. Don't bore her. Don't push her away with his silly stories, that's all he could think of. Keep it in. Close. No unnecessary details. Enough.

[attr="class","words"]LIFE GOES ON