Spending My Time Watching the Days Go By

When autumn came, I moved away from home and started my studies. I was happy to get a place for myself, and a way from those small circles. My university city was about 10h drive from my parents' place.  That was actually the only positive thing I can remember from that autumn. I put all my energy to my studies, but totally shut myself away from the social events that the other students had (partying, get togethers, etc). I was just studying and the rest of the time I was at my student flat either writing letters to Peter, looking at our pictures, or just daydreaming about him. I did not have appetite, I lost 6 kg in couple of months (and I wasn't that big to start with), I had mild fever for months (I went to doctor, no reason was found), I was literally sick from missing him so much.  I was hanging in there just for that reason that at Christmas we had agreed to meet again, I would travel to meet Peter.

Finally Christmas came. I had three weeks off from uni and I had promised my parents to spend the first week with them and the two last weeks with Peter. When I got home, I found out that Alex had been sick for days, he had been having a high fever. Since the fever didn't reduce and he became weaker and weaker my dad wanted to take him to hospital and to have him examined  thoroughly. They found out that he had high infection levels in blood and he was diagnosed pneumonia. That was the first time when the thought that we might be losing him came to my mind. He seemed so fragile and pale in that hospital bed and receiving iv antibiotics. He was a shadow of himself compared to those pictures my mother had sent me couple of months earlier. (Alex had been offered some modeling jobs and his photos had been published in local newspapers, which my mother proudly sent me as well.)   

I was feeling a bit uncertain, if I should leave now when Alex wasn't still 100%, but my dad assured that he will be fine. And so I packed my suitcase and flew to Peter's arms. For some reason, I couldn't get a rid of being worried about Alex during my whole trip. I even sent him postcards to hospital (which he actually never got, 'cause he had been released to go home before the postcards arrived). But Alex got better and was back to normal in couple of weeks. And we all thought how lucky we were, that it wasn't anything more dangerous and now we could continue our lives like before. ..