“Jillian I laa…” That was all i got out before my dream withered away because of a million to one chance occurence. I mean what are the odds, That after working with the woman of my dreams for the last two years, and falling head over heals with her, that something like this would happen.
The courage that i had only mustered after doubling up on my prozac, taking a half bottle of codeine cough syrup, and my last zanex, had been dissolved by the sheer absurdity of and timing of this freak accident.
I mean i had been over it a million gazzilion trillion times, how i would look jillian in the eye finally tell her that i love her i adore her she is my raison d’etre, i dont want to be her friend; i love her. Then she would hold me in her arms and we would be in love, real wesley and buttercup type love.
Who could have guessed my fairytale moment would be interupted by a drunk amy whinehouse with a sewing needle lodged in her right eye, being rolled into Dr.jillian’s emergency room.