[ FF ] Sad story about disability

I call out to my friends sometimes. They never answer me, but I do n't blame them. I just sit there and watch television ( well, not WATCH, but maybe listen for a little while ) and I pretend that I do n't mind the isolation. They visit me each week and I pray they'll stay just a little bit longer, but each time it's just a little bit less. 
 
 I feel like Gregor Samsa, once a productive member of society, now a helpless bug, trapped on my back. Unable even to let those I love know I still care. They used to discuss my'feelings', during those early visits, when I was still real to them. By now, I'm just a body occupying a bed, a bed that becomes more expensive by the day and only seems to take up space. They're more concerned with fees, and free time, and all the things they could be doing if they were n't pretending to care about me. 
 
 I tell myself that it's inevitable, that anyone would act like them. I know that's a lie. I know some people hold out hope for years, decades. They wither away clinging to false hope. But not my loving family, my darling wife and wonderful kids. I still love them, though. And I do n't blame them. They all think I'm gone already, it's okay. I would n't visit me, either, I suppose. It's not like I can tell them how much it still means to me. 
 
 They're removing the feeding tube later today. If I could have one last wish, it would be that they never find out I was still conscious.
