When I was in college I dyed my hair red. It was called "Pomegranate." I hadn't thought of that until yesterday. In my stocking at Christmas, my mom put in a little candle with the scent of.. "Pomegranate."

I don't mean for it to be sad or dramatic but it is. It's confusing.
I hung out with her tonight at the hospital where she's residing on the 7th floor.
She's too embarassed to tell anyone who they keep on the 7th floor.
We sit and talk and she laughs even. She's playing it cool and I think
maybe she's playing it too cool. "Look, doc! I done went and got all my shit
together and now it's time for me to head home. Thanksbye!"

She's got a roommate named Tina. She told the big guy she's a serial killer.
Her little roommate. Young and so small.. She told her how they could break out the windows and jump.
She didn't mean a word of it but it makes her roll her eyes in hindsight.
"So serious around here!"
We're lounging and my leg hangs over the side of the chair.
It's cool. We're cool.
A zillion puzzles are piled on the shelves and threaten to topple over at any moment.
Everything's mauve and brown and white and white and white.
A room with plastic baskets of crayons.
We're playin' it cool together and my brain is thinking of a zillion things.
I have something to tell you, Internet.
You see, I've known her so long.. We've talked about so many things.
We've cried and laughed and played as kids. All of that shit that friends do.. we've done.
But tonight, I realized. I realized for the very first time.
It's hard for me to just spill everything out to her.
I used to have inside me somewhere the ability to spew whatever crept into my brain.
I wanted to make fun of things I shouldn't and cry with her and tell her what I truly truly think.
Couldn't do it.
Came home, said it all outloud. Why didn't I tell her those things? I tread carefully with her.
I wanted to be brutal but loving. Her dad did the same and she's not speaking to him.
OH, right right, I know. Better for her to be alive and not speaking to him, blah blah blah.
Tomorrow her doctor will call me and drill me. He wants to talk to people around her.
she asked me what I'll tell him and I asked if she was preparing a script.
It's strange. I think at the hospital I just watched while some girl sat with her.
I was sitting in the car waiting.
shit.