You see, Insomniac-Musician-Neighbo
In between vomiting sessions, I found myself curled into the fetal position beneath my toilet, staring at a wadded up Kleenex because I was sure it was the only thing keeping me in this world. I then realized this was the kind of illness one should not try to conquer alone. I needed medical attention.
The problem, Insomniac-Musician-Neighbo
When I was finally near enough to death to justify knocking on your door at 2:30 in the afternoon, you emerged like a bat seeing light for the first time. Your entire mouth was stained neon blue from the 44-ounce Slushy you were still clutching in your hands. A TV show, possibly Battlestar Galactica, was playing in the background. You were wearing that wretched V-neck sweater. Nonetheless, when you heard me plaintively request to be driven to a medical establishment, you sprung to action. You sprinted to retrieve your keys with the kind of grace only achieved by adult man-children wearing combat boots and tight, black tapered jeans. I truly appreciated your haste.
I slumped into your Subaru with the automatic seat belts. I didn't even mind that I was sitting on a week's worth of Burger King wrappers. You told me that you wouldn't hold it against me if I puked in your car. Thank you, Insomniac-Musician-Neighbo
I could tell you were trying your best to not talk about your life and how much you don't like it. When you couldn't think of anything else to talk about, you simply turned on your Moby CD really loud (it was super loud, Insomniac-Musician-Neighbo
You were driving really fast. You understood the urgency of my intestinal plight, and responded. Thank you. I am sorry I smelled like bile. Was that why you had to have your window open in the middle of February?
Upon my admittance to said medical establishment, you even came back to check in on me. This was completely unnecessary and awkward, but I admired your chivalry. You stood over my bed until you were absolutely certain that your heroic moment was over. Over, but not forgotten, Insomniac-Musician-Neighbo
Because of your bravery and quick, instinctive action, I hereby grant you 400 full repetitions of the chorus to "Yellow Submarine" free from my judgement. You earned it, Insomniac-Musician-Neighbo