A few nurses walked out earlier as I started talking about Tom. They said they had a job to do. They have no patience. There were two left. One walked out when I mentioned Tom's hand in my waistband. The other stayed.

I look over to her, "Why did you stay?"

She is pretty. She has blonde hair and brown eyes. Her face says sweet and her lips say sweeter. She has a nice structure as well.

"Because someone needs to hear your story." Her voice is comforting in a way I can't explain.

"No one wants to hear mine. Mine is about a man loving another man," I whisper. My voice is shaking.

"Someone needs to hear before you forget." She is sitting in an off-colored chair. Her hair sits on her shoulders perfectly. She is perfect. If only I could love someone like her.

"Why you?"

"Because I'll listen. And please, spare no details. I don't care how... explicit... it is. I'll listen."