The sooner you realize things will never be the same, the sooner you can move on. (The O.C.)

The next morning Christian came by the hospital with a heavy heart, it was written all over his face.

“Hi,” he said.

“Hi,” I repeated shyly. It felt like I was talking to a stranger. “I get out today.”

“I know.”

“Are you okay?”

“Not really.”

“What’s wrong?” I asked as if I didn’t know.

He stood at the foot of my bed and I was disarmed, even more than before. Suddenly self-conscious about the state of my appearance I looked away.

“Have you given any thought to rehab?” he asked. Something about his every word was heavy.

I shrugged.

“Hope… Hope, I don’t think I can do this anymore.”