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2000-07-20
12:46:58
i woke up in the middle of the night last night, sweating like i'd just run five miles, but shivering like i was naked in a snowstorm. i stared at the ceiling for a second and tried to calm down. it worked a little bit; once i remembered that i was safe at home, i felt a little better. but then, i turned to my wife, thinking that seeing her sleeping calmly beside me would settle me further.
when i turned my head, i looked at my wife, but it wasn't my wife. it was the girl: wet and mangled, bleeding all over my sheets. i screamed and jumped out of bed.
the next thing i knew, i was on the floor with my head in my hands, sobbing. my wife was next to me, frantically throwing questions out at me and trying to look at my face. i couldn't look at her. i couldn't hear her questions, either. my head was swirling and pounding like someone had just hit me with a brick.
i don't know what i'd do without jess. she loves me more than i deserve to be loved. she held me until the tears faded and i could finally look at her, but then i noticed that there was a smear of blood on her hands. i asked what was going on, and she looked at me like i was crazy, but then she told me i had fallen out of bed and i must've hit my head on the nightstand. she tried to tell me she was going to take me to the hospital because i might have a concussion, but i fucking hate hospitals so i refused to go.
i'm glad she didn't insist on taking me to the hospital, but then she got more concerned about what she was now convinced must be a concussion. she said she wasn't going to let me go back to sleep because you shouldn't go to sleep if you think you might have a concussion. i don't know if that's true or not, but i sure as hell didn't feel like getting back in bed right away.
jess put on some coffee, and then she started putting something on my head that stung like hell and smelled even worse. then she asked me what had happened.
all this time, i was thanking God that she wasn't asking about it. i had all that time to come up with a good, or at least a somewhat believable, explanation. and i still didn't know what to say. i just told her i must've been dreaming, but i didn't remember what i was dreaming about. i don't think she believed me, but she let it go at that.
what am i going to do? i can't tell her what really happened! i can't tell her that i left some girl to die on a deserted street in the middle of a thunderstorm after i hit her with my car. what would she think of me?! it's hard enough to handle what i think of myself! i can't tell jess. i can't jeopardize the love she has for me.
