I Fell in Love with Hope - Lancali

be. He is one of their many patients. He is not their one anything. He
is nobody’s one.
That is a very lonely existence.
Little did time know, when it gave him to me, that I am lonely too…
I’ve never spoken to a patient before.
In fact, I’ve never spoken to anyone before.
At first, I hide. Then, I observe the boy from the threshold of his
room. He plays with tiny potted plants on the ground.
“Good morning,” he says when he sees me peeking out, not the way
you’d greet a stranger. I flinch, retreating almost fully out of view. He
cocks his head to the side, laughing. “Are you shy?”
“I–” My voice is fresh, a muscle that’s never been used. I swallow,
stretch it, let my tongue move in my mouth, calibrating. “Hello.”
“People aren’t supposed to see me without a mask and gloves,” he
says, but his caution wavers with a shrug. “You can come in if you
want, though. I don’t mind.”
I hesitate.
The problem is I know him. But he’s never had a chance to know
me. He is a painting I’ve been admiring for a long time without the
courage to walk into it.
The boy looks up, taking me in as I do him. His clothes are well kept,
but his shoes are muddy. His hair is soft, ungroomed, but his gaze is
full of curious edges.
“Have we met before?” he asks. “I feel like I know you.”
“In–” I stutter, walking into the frame and brushstrokes. “In a way.”