Sitting in what they call a comfort room after 8 in the morning
I’m watching the door to the theatre
Watching the clock
The comfort room brings little comfort
It’s cold and a lone window is before me covered in blinds
The wall covered in words such as
Harmonious
Healed
Natural
Marvellous
Free
Safe
Happy
Peaceful
Healing
Aware
Conscious
Healthy
All words meant to bring comfort but the irony
Does not miss me
It’s quiet sitting here
Save for the sounds of the machines somewhere in the hospital
And the wheels on the cold tile floors
I feel far away from him
Not knowing what is happening behind that closed theatre door
It holds my heart
And I am locked out of it
I don’t have the access or the authorisation
I watch the door like a predator stalking its prey
Waiting to pounce the minute I see him being wheeled out that room
To take his hands in mine
Kiss his lips
To see his eyes see mine
The only comfort this empty room brings
Is the chance to be with my own thoughts
To allow my inner turmoil to run free and
Keep me company during this time
I fear looking away from the door
I fear I might miss him and never see him again.
Beautiful and very touching. I hope all is well now.
So very well written.
Thank you. I appreciate that 🙂