There is a boy that I saw on dialysis today. He must have been new because I hadn't seen him there before. I go to the same hospital that I do since January 11th. I didn't see him until today. But his face was grim and pained. He didn't look as good as he probably could've been. His upper body was wrapped in a leather jacket which was a bit silly for it being June but he seemed to have been shivering as well. The sleeves of the jacket were pushed up to the crook of his elbows but a couple of times, it almost seemed like he was going to jerk the sleeves down but stopped himself. His hair was messy and I could see a lighter wedged in his pocket along with a pack of cigarettes. I must've watched him for as long as I could've, his unhappiness filling the room and washing over everything. There was a girl off to his side, grasping his hand whenever she could. His body would relax when she did. She must've been someone special to him to have that sort of relief on him. I wish I had someone like that.
I don't know his name though. I wonder if it would be a good idea to talk to him. He seems like the bad attitude type, the rebelling bad boy. But he looked incredibly vulnerable. I almost sent my white rabbit over to him.