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There's not enough time. Not enough time to do what is needed. To say what is needed. I remember earlier. When you left. I remember thinking 'What if something were to happen. What if she never comes home?' and what if that happened? That's why I'm sitting here unable to find rest unable to find peace because there's something I need to tell you before night fall's and the skies become dark. As the day's last bit of light disappears I'm sitting waiting for you to return thinking 'Does she even know how much I love her?' I don't know if she does but I sure as hell hope so. It was midnight when I got the call. Something had happened to her. She had been in a car accident. I had known something was wrong when she didn't come home. Even when we would fight she would always come home before dark. Always. Except for this time. This time she didn't this time the chance of never doing that ever again was big. And it was scary. I was scared. I was terrified of what had happened. They didn't tell me as they called me on the phone. I didn't alert anyone of what had happened or rather what I suspected had happened as I rushed to the hospital. I probably shouldn't even have been driving, but I didn't care. By the time I reached the hospital, I was a mess. In fact, I was a mess the second I hung up the phone call and rushed to the car keys in hands tears streaming down my face. I don't remember entering the building I don't remember any doctors or nurses talking to me giving me the number to her room. I only remembering opening the door seeing her laying there bandages covering her head her arms legs and waist. The cast on her left leg the slightly bloody bandage around her head her pale though still peaceful looking face her body that had never looked more fragile than in that moment. Her left hand and wrist were in a cast as well. Her waist was wrapped in a thick bandage as well as her right arm and upper right leg. A couple of stitches lined her eyebrow and most of the hair on the left side of her head had been cut off. I remember walking over to the bed taking her slightly cold hand in mine as even more tears leaked down my face. It was a silent kind of crying. A shocked kind of crying. Of course, I was shocked. I had never imagined that something like that would or even could happen to her. The possibility of it had never even crossed my mind. I remember the doctor telling me that she was in a coma and that there was a possibility that she would never wake up. I remember him telling me he was sorry and I remember thinking how fake his sorry was how little he meant it if he even meant it at all. I don't remember much of what happened the following weeks. I remember whole days spent awake on my knees next to her bed kneeling one of her hands in mine so I could feel her pulse the steady beat of her heart and know that she was still alive though she wasn't with me. I remember people coming and going. Some nurses and doctors checking up on her and family members and friends staying for a couple of hours before going again. I remember that on the third day of me watching over her without sleeping or eating they literally had to drag me away from her and drug me in order for me to sleep. I remember waking up and the first thing I did was go back to her room and climb into the bed next to her and then just laying there staring at her face and the steady rise and fall of her chest listening to her breathing. And I remember the day she woke up. I remember as she opened her eyes and confused looked around. I remember as she tried talking though finding herself unable to because her throat was that dry. I remember giving her some water and I remember the first thing she said. "Who are you?" and though I remembered it all. Our time together how we met how we fell in love how we ended up together against all odds. I remember it all. She didn't though. She remembered nothing of it. She didn't remember what had happened our time together how we met how we fell in love how we ended up together against all odds. She remembered nothing of it. I remembered it all. And she remembered nothing. Nothing at all. I still remember her though she has forgotten everything about me. | ||||||||||||||
 | haleløs | 2015-05-16 14:21:09 |
down through this story one thinks; aha ... parent / child or perhaps lovers conflict. Now, it turns out to be perhaps gay love, that was, because the patient has moved on while the author has not?
Anyway; good theme, brilliantly told, excellent english! More, please?
sincerely ...
Anyway; good theme, brilliantly told, excellent english! More, please?
sincerely ...
| BigNerdBeard | 2015-05-18 06:25:56 |
Thank you. I do believe myself that my writing has improved - even if only a little - over the last couple of months.
Now I'm not sure what you mean when you say 'More please?'. Does that mean more as in continuing this story of more as in posting another story?
Now I'm not sure what you mean when you say 'More please?'. Does that mean more as in continuing this story of more as in posting another story?
| haleløs | 2015-05-18 07:14:28 |
I´m eagerly awaiting more stories from you; only the author knows, when a text is finished ;)
| BigNerdBeard | 2015-05-18 23:26:35 |
For now your wait is over as I have just written and posted a new story called 'Crumbling Angels'. Hopefully you will enjoy it. Happy reading :)
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