Eternal sleep

I admit, meeting in a hospital when both of you are sick is not a very fortunate thing. But I assure you, he was the best thing that ever happened to me. He was cheerful and pulled me out of my shell. Every day, he would come by in his wheelchair. And every day, he would tell me jokes, little stories, anything to take my mind of my disease. Even though he must have been suffering as well.

During those days, when we both could still get out of bed, talk and sit with each other for a few hours, we fell in love. It's cruel to fall in love when you both know your end is near. It's really horrible. But you can't stop the feeling when it is there.

We spent nearly every day together. Reading, listening to music, making fun of the nurses and getting teased by them. Sometimes, when I was tired from my medication, we would just lie in bed. Sometimes we would make out. It was nice, for the time being.

But my health decreased quickly, and so did his after a while. He was no longer able to sit in the wheelchair. It was so sad, so heart breaking. My tall, handsome and cheerful lover was now tied to a bed, unable to move for more than five minutes. He doesn't need to know that I cried a lot during those days.

At some point, the nurses felt sorry for us and they placed us in the same room. It was not something that was usually done, but I think he bribed them with daunting smiles and flirty winks. He knows he's good looking.

After three months of being together, my condition worsened again. The doctors had no hope that I would live much longer. If I would, it would be painful. Together with my parents and him, we decided that it would be best to end it. The day was set three weeks from now.

A week before my death date, he got very, very bad. He wasn't responding to the new medication and they rushed him to the IC ward. It looked very grim. I was brought there as well, in a wheel chair. One of the nurses pushed me. He was barely awake, yet he still smiled at me. He said he was glad to see me. The end was probably near.

When I returned from my visit, I slept a whole day. 24 hours straight. The nurses were scared I would die. I didn't. I wanted to see him again.

The days after he was placed in the IC, he started to sleep a lot. The doctors didn't know what to do about him. His parents came and cried and cried, the nurse told me. He was not going to get better. I knew that now.

One day before I would die, the doctor that took care of him visited me. Asked me whether I would like to see him again, before I would go. I only nodded. I was so tired.

The next day, I was wheeled to a room I had not been before. It had one big bed. It was strange, since most hospital beds were for one person. I still don't know where they got it from. He was there, lying with his eyes closed. When the nurse put me in the bed, he opened his eyes. They were still very, very blue, but they didn't seem to be able to see anything.

I told him I was there and I held his hand. He rested his head on my shoulder. This was going to be my last day, I told him. He smiled weakly.

The nurses walked in and injected something in him. His eyes closed again soon after, but not before he gave me a little kiss. It made me happy. Soon, my own medication came and I slowly fell into darkness. It didn't hurt one bit. I just fell asleep. We both died that day.

And again, I was inspired by a picture on tumblr. aph- hetatrash. tumblr post/ 139834795441

~Hana