Page 48 of Actions and Reactions
How I’m supposed to change something I’ve been living with my whole life is a true mystery, but what I come to realize after god knows how much time of thinking in this bed, is that the only way I can find out whether I can change is to go to this place and see what it’s all about.
I don’t particularly want to ever step foot in another hospital because I’ve injured myself. It’s a kick in the nuts, because all my childhood I believed I was going to be putting my body on the line on the regular for my job, and I was fine with it back then, I really was. Now it’s different, though.
And I also don’t think I’d enjoy having another day like the one after Bear and Drew’s wedding. Looking back, I see that I did do what Dr. Denise said, and that withdrawaldoesn’t feel good. Added to that, I really don’t want to hurt Vinny again.
I don’t want to see him scared like he was when I woke up after surgery, or so obviously heartbroken like he was when he had that realization. It was the same devastation that I caused the last time I was in a hospital and he came to visit me.
That has me springing up so quickly I startle Dad.
“Silas—”
“Sorry,” I mutter and scrub a hand down my face.
The one thing I cannot possibly live with is going another seven fucking years without Vinny in my life.
I don’t know why in the holy fuck I didn’t say anything yesterday before he left. I don’t know what part of me shut down so effectively that I just stared at him.
But now I need toact.
I crawl to the end of the bed and grab the chart from where it’s hanging, then take my phone from the table next to me. I flip through the pages until I find the diagnosis and recommended treatment, and like I always do when something big happens—even though I know she hates it and would love to be in my presence to kick my ass when I do—I send Lottie a picture of my chart with no explanation.
I see I have a bunch of messages from Uncle Hulk, Lex, Aunt Lyla, and my grandma, but I ignore those for the time being. I send the same picture to Vinny, and spend about thirty minutes crafting a message.
I know he’s playing right now, and I learned last season that he doesn’t look at his phone between periods so it’llprobably be hours before he sees the messages, but I have to send them now, because sadly I don’t know if I’ll still have the energy or the balls to send them later.
Silas:
I don’t know why I didn’t say anything yesterday, but I can’t tell you how sorry I am that I didn’t. Apparently I’m insane, which I’m sure you won’t be surprised by, but my parents are taking me to this place near Lottie where I’m going to try and get better. I don’t want us to not speak for years again, Vinny. You’re the only person in the world who knows me, and I’m including myself in that. I think that might have something to do with this whole PTSD thing.
I think Mom said something about a three-month program, but hopefully I’ll be able to text you while I’m in there.
I really am sorry.
And I’ll be back once I’m better.
Before I’m even done writing and sending them, Lottie writes back.
I get three rolling eyes emojis, and then she gets straight to the point in such a Lottie way that I have to smile.
Lottie:
I know, Silas.
Mom and Dad already told me and I’m busy finding them a fucking rental.
I knew you were crazy.
I snort at that.
See you in a week or so.
Stop punching walls, dumbass.
Love you.
It’s nice to know some thingscanstay the same even while others have to change.
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