Those night’s intimate moments

I was on the late shift. Shit hit the fan in the hospital, not literary, of course, but it felt like it, so I had to overstay my normal finishing hours.

When I finally could walk out, it was 3 am, I was tired as a dog and texted Mark, begging to come and pick me up because I felt like I would face the pavement if I walked home being so tired and hungry.

Imagine me walking through the long hospital corridor at night, entirely empty, not counting the security guards’ station next to the entrance. I was staring at my phone to see if he received my message and had a chance to read it. It was the middle of the night, so I was hoping for, but not counting on my luck. I didn’t want to call him because if he was so deeply asleep… well, let’s say it is better to leave the sleeping bear to his rest.

I was passing the security guard station, still glued to the screen of my phone, when Mark, being  an awesome guy, texted me back with

 ‘Be there in sec.’

I was so happy, and I wanted to let him know how much it meant to me, so I quickly typed a short,

‘Goodnight,’

While turning to the security guy and with a bright smile, said.

‘I love you,’

He stared at me like a deer in the highlight, when the realisation of what I just said startled me and like a mature adult who can solve any problem with rational conversation…

I ran away.

Why would I stay and turn this into a joke, explaining I was doing two things at once and my tired brain fried the synapses, sending impulses to the wrong neuron? No, it would be too mature. Instead, I blushed and ran like a teenager.

Tomorrow, I have to come back to the hospital. I hope we won’t have to call security to the Emergency Departement because I’m not the best in delayed confrontations. I have no idea how to bring up the subject of my mishap. So likely, we will just stare at each other with me imagining what the heck poor man must think.

Mark, of course, laughed his butt off when I told him, commenting,

‘Oh, so it is the time we have THIS talk,’

So I’m telling you I’m doomed, and never underestimate the power of a good misunderstanding trope because of adults like me. We are there, and we are total nutjobs with a complete lack of social skills.