Kirsten would not consider herself a patient person. She hated waiting. Waiting gave a person time to think, to dwell. She supposed that was why doctor offices had waiting rooms...
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The first two weeks she took sleeping pills to get her through the night and that helped...for a little while. It might have been okay if it had only been Ryan that left, but with Seth gone too and Sandy pulling away... She only meant to drink one glass of wine just to help her relax, but one turned to two and two turned to a bottle... The memories came to the surface and she could feel the cold, sterile metal under her feet, the thick, scratchy paper nightgown on her skin, the uncomfortable pull. It hadn't hurt, not too much anyway... Not until later; later when she saw a mother holding her child at a stoplight and she lost it, sat it the car while people honked from behind and cried until her throat was hoarse and her tear ducts dry. She didn't know she could ever feel worse than she did then...she was wrong.
Kirsten poured herself another glass of Merlot and sat in the dark, alone. Waiting.