I know it took a while and I'm truly sorry. I'll try to update soon, but don't expect it until after the second, because that is my final exam. Enjoy!
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My new therapist's name is Eleanor. She is recently graduated, has brown hair and reminds me slightly of Rachel. She tells me that I can tell her anything. I don't really want to. She has been to see me for a week now, and I have yet to say hello. As I close my eyes, I see Monica. I wonder if it might help if I cut them out, but I know that the images are produced from a memory in my head, and that cutting my eyes out would help the matter extremely little. Still I wish I could. Eleanor sits down on the chair next to my bed and she looks at the flowers on my bedside table. Rose has sent me an awful lot of things, everything from doughnuts and chocolate to flowers. I know I should feel touched, but I only feel empty.
"I see you have a card up there from your mother." She indicates a pink card which I find hideously ugly. I shrug and look away. "The nurse told me to tell you that she rang earlier this morning to say that she was flying to London." I snap my head back to look at her, shocked. I never expected my mother to care that much about me. "We would have to get you to talk by then, I'd suppose." She says, continuing her eternal one-sided conversation. "Oh, and before I forget, a Mr Ross Geller has been calling for you three times this morning…" I sit up in bed, suddenly a lot more curious.
"Ross?" I whisper hoarsely, and Eleanor looks slightly pleased. I have a hard time figuring out how on earth Ross has managed to find out that I am in a hospital, but then I realise that it is the work of my darling mother. Of course. I wonder briefly if Monica knows as well, and I suppose that she does. I meet Eleanor's dark eyes, and I clear my throat. "Just Ross?" I wonder why Joey hasn't called, or Phoebe or Rachel. I don't even dare to entertain the thought that Monica would have made an effort, because I know that it would never be anything more than wishful thinking.
"Well, a woman called to get some information on your condition earlier, but she didn't leave a name." My heart aches a little, as I allow myself to think that maybe, just maybe, it might be Monica. Still, it could be my father, not wanting to embarrass me. It could be Rachel or Phoebe, too worried or confused to leave a name. I decide to go with my father, because it eases the pain from the fact that he still hasn't called for me, even though I know that the nurses placed a call to his hotel in Vegas. Still, I know that he would use his real name if he called, and no one would assume that his dark voice belongs to anything but a man. "She was American, if that helps." Eleanor adds, and I wince. It still doesn't narrow it down at all. She squints at me curiously, and then smiles enigmatically. "Are you expecting a call from someone?" I shrink away from her, further out on the bed. I shake my head. I know that it will help me to talk about Monica and what she did, but I can't get the words to come out. "I'll listen if you change you mind, Chandler." She says sweetly and reaches for her cup of coffee that sits on the side table.
"Monica." I say weakly. I bite down on my lips to keep myself from saying anything else, but somehow the words keep coming. "She used to be my girlfriend in New York." I tell Eleanor the story of how I met Monica, right from the beginning and the words can't seem to stop coming. I tell her of how we met that one Thanksgiving when I had just gone off to college. I tell her how Ross, her big brother, is my best friend, and that she and I hit it off really bad, but that eventually, after college, we became friends. I go on to tell her about London and Ross' marriage to Emily and how Monica was sad and how we ended up having sex and how we then just happened to fall in love. I want Eleanor to tell me that what Monica and I started was a bad idea from the start. I want her to say that it would never have lasted, no matter what I had done. She remains silent, just giving me a small nod to urge me on. I tell her of my fear of commitment and how I tend to freak out. She smiles a little when I say that I truly waited for it to sneak up on me and pull me down from behind, but how I just grew into every situation that came at us; the almost-marriage in Vegas, the fights, the move-in. I tell her how I knew I never wanted to be away from Monica, but that it still scared me a little to think of anything permanent. "And then one day, she meets her old boyfriend Richard, whom she wanted to marry once, an-and he tells her that he still loves her and that he is ready to marry her now." I fall silent, and Eleanor looks expectantly at me. My whole body aches as I say the next few words, "She said yes."
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A hand is slowly stroking mine, and for a split of a second, in my mind, I imagine that the hand on mine is Monica's. Only for a split of a second. I slowly open my eyes, and they focus on my mother, who is looking slightly worried.
"Sweetheart." She whispers slightly when my eyes stop fluttering and stick to her. "I'm so sorry, honey." I know what she means. She has been with me all too many times when I have let the Darkness take control. She knows that her divorcing my father was the moment which started it all, and I know that even though neither of my parents would have been parents in a perfect world; they do love me and wish nothing bad for me. I shake my head to let her know that I don't blame her. I have always preferred the Darkness to the unfair reality which I seem to have ended up in.
"Your friends are here." She tells me and I sit up slightly. I look out through my window, through the semi-closed blinds, and I spot them. Rachel and Phoebe leaning against each other, asleep. Ross is reading a paper, while Joey is munching on a candy bar. At first I don't notice her. She isn't sitting next to the others. I don't see her until she walks past the window restlessly. She looks a mess, her hair is longer than I remember it, just like Richard wants it to be, and it is untidy. Her shirt is wrinkled and I notice with dread that she is pregnant. She peeks inside as she passes the little window and for a second our eyes meet and she stops. Her face is pale, and her red and puffy eyes tell me that she is either tired or has been crying, or both. She turns her head around slightly and when she looks back Ross and Joey are already on their way over to the window as well. Phoebe and Rachel are slowly getting off the couch, but they haven't got off it by the time Ross and Joey come to stand by the window and block my view. Joey waves uncertainly, and I try a weak smile. I can't really believe that after ignoring them for more than five months they would still, all of them fly to Europe to see me when I get sick. The thought makes me feel terrible. My mom turns to look at my five friends as well, and she smiles a little.
"They were very worried about you." She tells me and gives me a warm smile. "Especially Monica." She adds with a wink, and I frown. I get the feeling that my mother is playing a game, like those the characters in her books play with their friends who happen to be in love and not knowing it. I realize that perhaps, my mother is drawn to love that is the way it is supposed to be, as opposed to her three-week marriages to teenage playboys and old multi-millionaires. I shake my head, trying to tell myself that no matter how much I love Monica, it can't ever go back to what it was. She is pregnant and getting married and I will have to accept that. Somehow. "Do you want me to let them in?" Mom asks me, and I shrug. I don't really want to, but I know that I owe them.
"Yeah." I say quietly and mom squeezes my hand lovingly before she gets off the chair to open the door. She tells me that she will go and talk to the doctor, and I hear her tell my friends that they can come in if they want to. Joey is inside the door the second mom has finishes talking, closely followed by Phoebe and Rachel. I smile a little at them as they slowly approach the bed. My eyes keep drawing back to the door, waiting for Monica and Ross to enter. After a little while Ross emerges and closes the door behind him. My heart sinks a little deeper in my chest, but somehow I feel a little relieved as well.
"What's happened to you, man?" Joey asks, obviously concerned, as he comes to stand next to my bed. Ross immediately joins him, echoing the question. I give a sigh; how can I tell them that one of their friends, Ross' little sister, hurt me enough to get me so depressed that I would willingly enter the Darkness, something I know very well will lead to death by starvation and dehydration within a week.
"Well, I think the correct term for it is depression." I tell them, smiling as to cover up the seriousness of it all. Rachel's hand grabs mine, and she sits down on the bed next to me. Joey turns away and starts towards the door. Ross reaches out a hand to stop him, and my two best friends exchange a look of anger and disappointment that makes me queasy.
"Will you be okay?" Rachel asks in an obvious attempt to divert my gaze from Ross and Joey. It works as I focus on her and Phoebe sitting on my bed. I shrug, and I know that they haven't fed me enough pills for me to actually care if I am okay, especially not after seeing that Monica is pregnant. "You will be okay, right?" She asks when all she receives for an answer is my shrug.
"I suppose." I tell them, and Rachel shies away a little because of my indifference towards my own recovery. "Given time, I'll probably be alright." I relent and they all look a little more hopeful. We chat a little about things that don't matter to any of us. The Knicks' last game, a new hot waitress at Central Perk, Joey's last failed audition and one of Phoebe's weird clients. No one mentions either Monica or Richard, even though I know that they are on all of our minds. Joey is unusually quiet, and he stays at the back of the room. In the middle of a rather boring story about an incident at Ross's work, Joey suddenly stands up.
"Is this… all of this because of Monica?" He asks, and his voice seems weirdly loud and clear. "Are you in a hospital because you didn't want to live after what she did?" I look away because he just put the truth out for all to see, and it wasn't a truth I was very comfortable displaying. I don't want to be the sad fucker who kills himself because of a broken heart. That's not who I am. I hide behind sarcasm and jokes, and I'm fine with it. This time, though, it was just too much to take, because it was Richard, and how could I ever measure up to Richard? Talk about a kick in the crotch. I suppose that it was just one time too many.
"Joey!" Ross hisses angrily, but I know that deep down he wants to know as well. In fact, I think that even Monica wants to know, on some level any way. Still, I'm not strong enough to admit to the truth.
"I-I…" I begin, but I can't seem to say the words. "I don't know… I-I don't want to talk about it." Joey looks as if he wants to ask me more things, but we all see the look Ross sends him, and he keeps quiet. An awkward silence falls over the room and we all try not to stare at each other.
"I wrote a song about a naked horse last week." Phoebe says all of a sudden and we all burst out laughing at Phoebe's weirdness, and I feel forever grateful to her. She always knows how to make me smile, even though I know that she is the one of us that has been through the worst things. She sings it to us, a little more false than usual because she doesn't have her guitar, but I love it. I smile at her when she finishes. "Hah!" She says triumphantly, "I made you smile!" We all smile a little more.
"Ross, honey?" My mother's voice startles me a little because I never realized that she had entered my room. I turn my head up and I see that she is only standing halfway inside my doorway. She is holding her arm around Monica, whom she is keeping out of the room. Ross seems torn between me and Monica for a little while before he tells me that he will be back soon and goes to talk to Monica. I can hear her muffled sobs, and I wonder why she is sad.
"Did she call him again?" Phoebe asks my mother and I immediately know that him is Richard Burke, and far out at the edges, despite the heavy medication I'm on, I can see the murkiness closing in on me. Rachel seems to notice my far-off look and she squeezes my hand again.
"Not now, Pheebs." She says softly, and the murkiness disappears with her voice. "Honey?" She asks, and I focus my gaze on her. She smiles sweetly at me and it makes the murkiness go further away. "Monica really wants to see you… are you… I mean, do you…"
"No." I tell them firmly, and they all look a little ashamed for having asked. But the truth is that I would love to see Monica, I just can't, because it would hurt so much, and I'm not strong enough. Phoebe, however, doesn't seem willing to let it go.
"She broke off her engagement to Richard last week." My stomach turns, and I don't know if it is because of the mentioning of his name or the fact that they were engaged. I force my teeth together to keep from gagging. Rachel smacks Phoebe on the leg to keep her from saying anything else, but it seems as if Phoebe is set on torturing me today. "It was the day after you called her, you know." I feel tears falling down my cheeks, and I cover my face. "She never really loved him." I want her to shut up. I want them all to leave, because it is more than I can take. It doesn't really help that they tell me that Monica left me for someone she doesn't love, in fact in only hurts more.
"That's enough Phoebe!" Rachel says harshly, and I can feel their weighs lifting from the bed. The door closes behind them, but I'm not able to look up. I wonder if Joey left with them or if he's still in the room. I move my hands from my tear wet face.
"I'm so sorry, man." Joey says from where he sat before, and on some level I want him to leave. We sit for a few more minutes in silence before my doctor enters and Joey quickly tells me that he will be with the others. I give a sigh as he closes the door. Why is everything so complicated?
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I wake up realizing that someone is in my room. Even before I open my eyes I know that it is Monica. I tell myself that if I don't open my eyes, she won't know that I am awake, so I try to lie as still as possible in a childish attempt to fool her. Of course she doesn't buy it.
"Chandler?" She asks, and I force myself to open my eyes. Monica is still by the door, as if she didn't dare to go any further. The first thought that emerges in my mind is that pregnancy definitely suits her. She is more beautiful than I remembered her. I quickly force that thought away, because firstly, it's not my baby, and secondly, she still hurts me so much.
"Go away." I tell her, but she doesn't move. I glare at her angrily, but it doesn't help. I give a sigh. She is resting her hands on her stomach and I wonder briefly how far along she is. She's not that big, but I don't know anything about things like that, after all, all I have as a reference is Phoebe, and she carried triplets.
"I need to talk to you." She tells me and takes a cautious step forwards, towards me and the bed. I sit up straight and she stops. I suppose that the look on my face tells her that I really don't want to be close to her. She looks like she wants to say something, and her mouth moves, but she remains silent. "I'm having your baby…" She tells me, and while I try to swallow those words she looks at me intently. I shake my head, trying to get rid of that thought, because it can't be true. I don't want it to be true.
"No." I tell her, as if I actually have something to say in the matter. She looks hurt. "It's his." I don't mean to spit it at her; I just can't seem to refer to him in a normal voice. She shakes her head.
"I found out that I was pregnant two weeks before I broke up with you." She tells me and I feel like my world crashes to my feet. Again. How could she not tell me? I don't know what to do. My throat seems too narrow, and no matter how deep my breaths are I can't seem to get any air down. I fling the covers off of my legs and I sit on the edge of the bed. I hear Monica's soft sobs, but they only make me angrier.
"Get out!" I tell her, daring to turn my head to look at her. She truly looks miserable, but I am too hurt to worry about that. "You disgust me!" I spit at her, and she flinches a little. "Get the hell out!" Her gaze searches for mine, but she doesn't move.
"Please." She says and her broken voice and her shaking body soften me a little and I nod, still extremely angry with her. "I'm sorry Chandler." She says, and I feel that she means it even though I'm not entirely ready to accept it or forgive her. "I freaked out." She tries to explain, and in another situation I might have found it ironic. She freaked out; while I was beginning to realize that I wouldn't ever do that again. "I kept thinking of how we weren't ready, and how bad you might react and I didn't know what to do. Then Richard showed up one day and said that he still loved me and that he wanted to marry me and have children with me, and I just… I did what made most sense to me. I accepted. I knew that you would feel trapped if I dumped a baby on you and I decided that I would rather take the decision myself. I should have known that it would hurt you." My feelings are in such disarray that I don't know what I feel any longer. The only way I know how to handle it is to pretend that it doesn't matter; that it doesn't bother me in the least. Not the baby, not her betrayal, she can't see how she presses me down below the surface and holding me there until I involuntarily draw in water and drown. She looks confused and I realize that my expression must have changed drastically. Even though my insides are in upheaval my face is calm.
"It was for the better." I tell her, even though the thought of Richard bringing up my child twists my heart until I'm sure it will break. "I mean, I'm not really parent-material, and, I, I mean, this way everyone is happy right?" Monica looks pale, and she shakes her head slowly, turning around to leave.
"I shouldn't have come." She says, carefully drying her tears. "I'm really sorry for not telling you, because you deserved to know from the beginning. I know you wouldn't have left, Chandler, and I'm sorry it took me this long to realize that." She leaves me alone with my thoughts and when the door closes behind her, I break into tears again, because it is so much more simple than keeping it all inside. I huddle up on my bed, my knees against my chest, fighting off the panic and the hurt. Suddenly a pair of arms are around me, and I automatically assume that they are my mothers. It's not until I draw a breath that I realize it's not her, but it feels so nice that I can't be bothered to break free. Monica holds me for what seems to be an eternity, and I realize that I have missed her so terribly much. I run my hand slowly over her stomach, finally realizing that there is a tiny baby in there that is mine. When I touch her she whispers that she is sorry; over and over again, as she squeezes me a little tighter. I still feel angry and sad and hurt, but I know that she knows that she did wrong, and it helps a little.
"I'm sorry." She says again, and she plants a tiny kiss on the top of my head. I close my eyes, and I wish that things were the way they were before. Her hand stroking up and down my back tells me that she wants that as well. "I still love you." She says, and I don't even bother to ask myself 'in what way?', instead I let my hand find its way back to her stomach. I feel her smile against my head, and I smile a little too, just a tiny little bit. After we have a real talk, I badly want her and me to be an 'us' again.