Page 83 of Frozen Flames

Maybe it’s because I’ve barely improved.

I can barely move.

My body gave up on me, yet it’s like my mind quit on me long before I could even try.

Forget the paralysis for a second—gone are my gains, all those hours working out at the gym. And yet despite losing muscle mass, I’ve never felt heavier. It’s worse in my limbs, since I haven’t fully walked in a while. Even my shoulders and arms have taken a hit.

There’s this patient, Christian, who’s progressing well. The guy’s so happy you’d think he’s our fucking mascot.

And he’s walking again.

Meanwhile, I can barely stand.

They say not to compare yourself to others, and that might apply to the other patients here. But when you’re the loser, it weighs on your mind.

Other than walking, what I miss the most is pissing by myself, without any equipment or the need to aim my dick toward my stomach to insert a needle, aka a catheter, every time I want to pee.

I should’ve appreciated when I could pee withoutany issues.

Fuck my life, I should’ve appreciated it then.

Now I’m stuck doing this little routine in hopes that one day I might not need any equipment. Though I suppose I should be glad that I’ve managed to control my bowel movements.

The thought of Gemma seeing me do things now destroys my sense of self and independence. The thought of her seeing my newbodycan’t even be put into words.

I hate this new version of myself.

I hate that she has to deal with this when we’ve only been together for just over a year.

I just want to go back to the way things were. I want to go back. Just go back. That’s all I want.

On top of the fact that I can barely feel my limbs, I don’t even feel like the oldme.

It’s like I was given a brain transplant and a new gloomy personality. I’d probably think of my old self as a douche if I saw him again.

That douche is dead.

I fell off my motorcycle, and I vanished. Just like that—never to be seen or felt the same way again.

Sometimes I wish, even for a split second, that I could die—just end it. A part of me doesn’t want to keep going. But I keep thinking of Henrik and Gemma and my parents.

Yet…I don’t want this—it’s too much.

I don’t want this life, and I sure as hell didn’t choose it.

“You’re gonna give Gemma an ulcer. The girl isstressed, Harv. You won’t let her see you. What’s going on?”

I freeze thinking about her.

My body keeps pumping blood through my arteries, yet my mind is frozen. Every exhale from my lips contains nothing but numbness.

“I can’t…not right now.”

“Harvey…it’s gonna to be a long journey, man. I know you know that. I don’t think shutting her out is the right approach.”

“I’m doing this for her.”

He snickers. “If you loved her—”

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