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" When the doctor said Mike would be all right, I felt like gravity ceased to be. And for a few seconds, it did. I fell forward, catching my balance on my sister. Becky began sob. It was all so unbearably tense and then, with the four little words &amp;quot;he&amp;#039;ll be all right,&amp;quot; the balloon burst, releasing all those repressed fears and doubts.  &amp;quot;Your brother was lucky,&amp;quot; the doctor said. &amp;quot;Had he punctured a more serious vein [he gave a name but I can&amp;#039;t remember] the cuts might have been fatal. I&amp;#039;ve assigned a resident psychiatrist to him for further observation. She will discuss future courses of action. But the good news is your brother is alive, alert, and resting in his room.&amp;quot;  That was last week. Mike has been staying in my room ever since he left the hospital. I told him he could stay there as long as he wanted. Sis comes down every day to cook for him and keep him company. Dad has even stopped by, though Mike refuses to see him. Nobody talked to him about the &amp;quot;accident.&amp;quot; That&amp;#039;s what we called it \u2014 mentioning the words &amp;quot;suicide attempt&amp;quot; made it all too real. We were all probably waiting for Mike to bring it up, anyway, but he hasn&amp;#039;t said much other than &amp;quot;sorry&amp;quot; and &amp;quot;thank you&amp;quot; every other word. The other day, when I brought him water for his meds, he grabbed my wrist and said, &amp;quot;I love you.&amp;quot; I told him how horrible I felt for upsetting him so much at the bar. He cut me off. &amp;quot;Don&amp;#039;t give yourself so much credit for my unhappiness.&amp;quot;  That was the most we&amp;#039;d talked \u2014 until last night. Mike woke me in the middle of the night again. This time with tears in his eyes.  &amp;quot;I want to talk to Holly,&amp;quot; he said. &amp;quot;I&amp;#039;ve done a lot of terrible things in my life, and I want to make some of them right.&amp;quot;  I rubbed my eyes. &amp;quot;That&amp;#039;s great. When you&amp;#039;re ready, of course.&amp;quot; I could tell he hadn&amp;#039;t taken his meds because he was anxious and emotional.  &amp;quot;When I saw that little girl playing alone on the swing, it snapped for me. I couldn&amp;#039;t get that image out of my mind. How have I become this person, Zach? How?&amp;quot;  I put him to bed and patted his head until he fell asleep. "^^<http://www.w3.org/2001/XMLSchema#string>
<http://www.redbookmag.com/love-sex/mens-perspective/a2071/diary-he-092207/>