Life in the Emergency Room

Life is like an emergency room. A fast-paced environment where the doctors, otherwise known as your conscience, your spiritual (if any) and your personality, are responsible for taking care of the drama that arises in the operating room within the hospital of your soul. Some dramas are serious, lots of blood, guts, and tears are shed as the three doctors of your life take over and try to fix the situation to the best of their ability. Sometimes, our intuition bursts through the ER and get in the way of the doctors in their attempts to try to be close to the victim. But the doctors and nurses, otherwise noted as our past experiences, excuse them to wait in the waiting room.

Suddenly, on a winter's eve, there arrives a victim. The EMT escorts him into the ER as the doctors arrive and get the initial report of the EMT's observations. They escort this victim into the Operating room one as they escort the corpse resting there out. They hoist the victim from the gurney onto the table. The victim appears to have severe dymentia, unsure of where he is and skepticalof what happened moments before he was taken away in the ambulance.

"Why am I here? WHat is going on?" Says the victim on the table. The doctors begin to examine him for any physical signs of trauma. But this is where the weird part of it comes in: this victim doesn't have any signs of trauma, he is just straight-up crazy. All three doctors sit and stare, wondering what is going on and what they could do to solve this situation. Was it a false alarm? Was it an audit to test the practice within the hospital? Why the hell is this fool in here if nothing is apparantly wrong with him? Then he begins to talk about this new boy that he is hanging out with on a regular basis and they know what's going on: he is just lovestruck.

Who knew that one day my life would change again...when I least expected it. Feeling for a boy again. My heart beats again. It's like I am starting to get a pulse again. I forgot I even had life in me. Someone had opened up this guard that I held myself under, grabbed the internal paddles, massaged my heart, and shocked my heart back to life. I thought this feeling was always going to be with Jeff. But now, Jeff has got competition. Because this guy has got my heart wrapped around his finger now.

It's like I have a bond with a patient with the doctor that just saved his life: gratitude for giving him another chance to live at life. My feelings with this guy are growing, I don't know if this is a good or bad thing; but one thing that is for certain: I am falling for him.

I don't know where it happened (I mean the sex did help me know that we are compatible in that area, but there were so many other areas that helped more). Maybe it was our mutual appreciation for dramatic films, or perhaps it was our appreciation and experience in stringed instruments, or it is possible that it was the fact that we are both Gemini's. After the first encounter, I was certain of one thing: I changed.

Earlier that day, as the rain was falling, I was hating everything, depressed how my life was turning out and wondering if I had made a mistake. Then suddenly, I get invited to the nightingale suites and I was singing a completely different tune.

Understanding that life is going to be different is a good thing. I have someone to talk to hang out with again. I missed hanging with Jeff, but maybe it was for the best so I leave him alone to his man. Maybe people leave so that you could leave room for another. Maybe the relationship between Jeff was put in ICU under the diagnosis of: comatose with little to no chance of return. Like being in an emergency room, once something becomes out of the control of the doctors, they transfer them to the appropriate ward and wheel in the next patient that needs attention. But until the doctors know what to do with this heart of mine, I am still stuck in the operating room, under close observation and wondering when I am going to get out of here, because the gown they gave me protect my ass from the cold metal table.