As much as a person can try to plan their life out, as much as they can hope everything goes right, there are always going to be those moments. The moments that you can't understand.

The moments that led up to where I am right now. The symptoms, tests, and the day the doctor decided to admit me to a hospital room.

And as I'm lying here, shut off from everything else, I think about how unjust this whole thing is. I'm a considerably young man. I should be spending time with my friends, with my family, doing things I enjoy. I felt fine, what? A few weeks ago? It feels like it came out of nowhere. What happened?

I don't know how long I've been asleep when I'm awoken by a knock on the door. "Whizzer?" It's Marvin. I hear him slowly walk in and I can't even lift my head to turn and look at him, and I hate myself for it.

"Good morning," I say, and it's the first time I hear how hoarse my throat is. Concern flashes on Marvin's face, which makes me feel worse.

"You're looking pretty good today," he tells me, a little too hopefully. "Did you sleep well?"

I hesitate. "...I slept."

He smiles a little. "Well. It looks like you're on the way to recovery."

I don't say anything. I can't.

"It's going to be fine. Okay?" He reaches for my hand and I give it to him. "Look at you. You'll be better in no time."

He doesn't say what we're both thinking. That maybe I won't be better in no time.

There's another knock on the door. I don't bother telling the person to come in because I know they're probably going to. And I'm right, because two seconds later, Cordelia walks in with a couple of containers.

"Hello!" she greets us cheerfully, a little bit out of place for a hospital ward. "I brought some food."

"I can see that," I remark.

"Hi, Cordelia," Marvin sighs. He steps aside so she can get near my bed and set the food down on a table.

"I've got rugelach, gefilte fish..." She pronounces it "gefilt-ee fish," and I can see Marvin frown but he doesn't correct her.

"I can't eat anything right now," I tell her. It's not just to get out of trying her food, I really feel like I can't.

"Oh, come on," she urges. "Look, just try this chicken soup. I bet it'll cure you!" She taps me on the nose.

I make a face but I accept the soup. Cordelia looks at Marvin and he raises his eyebrows back at her.

"So? How's he been doing?"

"He wasn't great a few days ago, I'll admit," Marvin says. "But I think he's making real progress."

Cordelia turns to me. "That's right! Between Charlotte's medication and my cooking, you'll be back in your feet before you know it."

They're being weirdly optimistic. Annoyingly, almost. I try the soup, which wasn't very appetizing to begin with, and I can hardly taste it.

"Now try the gefilt-ee fish," Cordelia suggests. Marvin gives her a sidelong glance.

And then there are more footsteps and Trina and Mendel come in. "I'm so sorry we're late," Trina says apologetically. "We had trouble parking. Well, Mendel did."

"At least I've improved since our second date!" her husband protests. "Or else the hydrants have moved."

Cordelia laughs loudly, stopping when none of us join in. "Nobody? Okay."

I glance at Marvin in surprise. "You invited Trina?" I whisper.

"Of course I did," he replies. "She wanted to see how you were doing. She cares about you, you know."

In spite of all this, I smile to myself.

"Let's see you over there," Mendel says, walking over. "How can I help?"

"Help?"

Trina pats him on the arm. "He's a psychiatrist," she reminds me. "Maybe he can make you well."

"Right," I respond, looking down at the soup.

"Don't worry, Whizzer, when we're done here you'll be good as new," Mendel assures happily. I've heard this far too much today, and I just want them to stop saying it. They don't understand, do they? I have little hope that I'll get better. And they're not doing me any good by pretending I will.

Marvin leans in close to me. "Do you want us all to go?"

"No, you just got here," I tell him. "Really, Marvin. It's fine."

"Here she is!" Cordelia says with a smile. I turn my head to see Charlotte coming in, to join the party, I suppose. Jason is close behind. "The doctor herself."

"Hi, Whizzer," Jason greets me, going up to my bed. "Gee, you look awful."

"Jason," Marvin warns him.

I smile as much as I'm able to. "It's good to see you, Jason."

"How are you feeling?" Charlotte asks in a hushed voice.

"I'm okay," I tell her. "Just a little tired." She nods.

"Maybe you need to play some chess," Jason says, pulling out the chess board he must have brought from home. I'm touched that he thought to do that.

"Sure thing, Jason. Sit down." I indicate the spot beside my bed.

He does so, and sets up the board between us. He takes white, like always. "I'll let you win," he informs me with a grin.

I sit up and laugh. "Don't let me win."

Marvin stands by the bed and rubs my back, watching us play. I glance over at him once or twice, and he looks happy, but sad at the same time. I want to tell him everything's okay, but that's what he's been telling me this whole time, and I know hearing it won't help him any more than saying it.

"It's days like this, I almost believe in God," Marvin tells me.

I want to say, stop acting like everything will be alright. I just want to feel like I'm not alone. But for the first time since we got back together, I don't say what I want to say. I'm too tired. I just can't.

Trina is standing by where Cordelia is, eyeing the food. "What is this?" she asks.

"Gefilt-ee fish," Cordelia responds with her trademark pronunciation.

Mendel glances over. "Gefilte fish?"

"Right," Marvin answers, like he hadn't even noticed.

"We should probably give you some space," Charlotte says to me, noticing my worn-out expression. She glances at her watch. Jason and I are finishing up the game— I can tell he's letting me win. "You look like you could use some rest."

"I could."

"Of course, we'll get going." Trina comes over and nudges Jason to get up. He picks up the chess board and gives me a small wave as they're leaving. Mendel follows them out, thanking Cordelia for the food, although from what I know he did not try her "gefilt-ee fish."

And then Charlotte leaves, and it's just me and Marvin, and I still don't say what I wanted to say, because it doesn't matter anymore. I hold my hand out and he takes it with a smile.

"I'll come back tomorrow."

"I know you will." I let his hand go as he walks out, giving me one last look. He's the last thing I see before I close my eyes.