" It's nothing ." you say and pull your arm away from me.
I can see the blood beginning to seep through the fresh bandages that cover a large part of your arm. and I know I don't really need to ask but I do because it's easier to pretend .
" You're bleeding. What happened ?"
You sigh and roll your eyes because we've gone through this so many times its becoming monotonous.
" It's just a scratch, nothing to worry about."
That's what you say anytime you want me to drop the subject . We both know that it doesn't really matter because I won't and you'll keep trying to evade the question. trying to feed me half-truths. you tell me it's for my own good. it won't do me any good to worry about you. finally after a couple of minutes of being questioned you let me look at your arm. and it's covered with red angry cuts that criss-cross and seem to go on forever. some have stopped bleeding but others are still seeping. for a minute I say nothing. then I meet your eyes, and you're smiling so I smile back. " I'll get some fresh bandages." and i'm out of the room before you can say anything.
