I Fell in Love with Hope - Lancali

“So,” she whispers. “How much time do I have?”
passion
N
TWO YEARS AGO
eo falls asleep teaching me about sarcasm. He explains the use of
irony in literature is often to show that surface appearance can
directly oppose actual meaning. Sarcasm is a way of using irony to
hurt my feelings.
I’m paraphrasing, but by the second hour of me still being unable to
pick out a sarcastic remark, Neo gives up and goes to bed.
I asked if it was ironic that we call fallen angels devils. He said he’d
tell me once he went to hell.
Nightmares sometimes visit him in the early stages of the night, so I
remain, an afterthought in my chair across the room. Unwanted
guests in Neo’s mind make him squirm, the sheets rustling. He
moves like he’s being restrained, his body tied down by an invisible
weight. Every time that happens, I bring my chair to his bedside and
hold his hand. A tether to something real, even in sleep, calms his
breathing.
I may not know much about irony, but I do know a lot about sick
people. I know when they need more care than they let on. Ever
since the day Neo cried on his bathroom floor in my arms, I haven’t
let that slip my mind.
Once the first hour of his sleep has passed, I leave Neo to better
dreams.
My people-watching hulls have been neglected lately. However, fate
has other plans. When the elevator doors open, the last thing I
expect to walk in on