Our love was fed by health.

(Something I decided to write tonight as it take my mind off bad stuff)

It’s wonderfully beautiful how much I need you right now.

3.42 am. Precisely. I pace the area of my room, avoiding the door but subconsciously glancing at it each time I walk past. My brain is crammed with the knowledge that I am going to die as soon as I stop pacing. With this in mind, I speed up. As I do, my train of thought trickles back to memories of you and I.

Once upon a time doesn’t seem that long ago now I think about it. You would be my alarm clock and ring me at whatever time I needed to be up for the next day. “Good morning sweetheart! Guess what? Today is going to be a good day! How do I know? Just trust me.” And I did. “I love you!” I’d hang up the phone every morning with a secluded smile on my face and a self satisfied spring in my step. You bought an electrifying light into my dark epitome of self-loathing and a sunset on a horizon of hope in my sea of troubles and woes. Woe is me now.

Our best memory comes flooding back in a tidal wave fashion; and there it was as clear as day. It was never too cramped there, but it was cosy. We’d sit there for days on end watching the whole world pass by and not a soul would know of our conclusively profound existence. We’d pick and choose people whom we supposed have the best of it all, but I should have grasped that it was you all along.

But it all went wrong. I got sick and you got tired. I grew weaker as you learned how to be strong. I was obsessed whilst you were out cheating. Then it ended. It was a painful end, the kind of pain that strikes hard and lingers until all sight of the wound disappeared. You were gone within two months of my hospitalised state. You broke my heart, literally.

I begin to slow my pace. What’s the point? You’ll never come back, and my life support will be cut short in a matter of minutes.

Many assume that being in comatose means I cannot hear anything. However the only metaphor here was my slowing pace has I came to a halt. I could feel my brain turn off, cell by cell. As my last thoughts linger, I knew you and I were too good to be true.