***Disclaimer: I’m not a writer. I just have a lot of thoughts that I need to force myself to put into words as a form of catharsis.
…I’m just tired, I thought to myself. I felt my energy slipping away as tears blurred my vision, wishing in vain that I’m in the comfort of my room and not on this dark road I’m driving through. I just can’t deal with this anymore…
“She’s still breathing, she’s still alive. Get her out, get her out of there!” This is how death probably feels like, it smells of gas and smoke, and barely enough air for me to breathe. Frantic yelling, sirens all abound… I need to move, I need to call someone, this can’t be it.
But I’m just so tired. For the first time, my body feels just as broken as how I’ve been feeling on the inside these days. Maybe this is it, maybe this is how it ends… maybe, maybe…
That beeping is definitely not my alarm, I wondered as I slowly opened my eyes. Why does my body feel so heavy? Why is it white all around and, and… why am I in a hospital?
“Mary, are you awake? Mary?” And just like that, it was as though my body jolted with electricity because of that one voice. But instead of his usual smooth and calm tone, he sounds frantic and anxious. But why?
My heart was beating erratically as I turned towards him, slowly blinking my eyes to see if he’s real and if he’s really here by my side. “What are you doing here?” I said in a rough whisper, “what am I doing here?”
“You don’t remember what happened?”
…I’m just so tired. I just want this pain to be over, please let me forget him. Please.
Ugh, sigh, what’s that big truck doing tailing my car so closely? Shit. Fuck.
It’s true what they say that it all happens in slow motion. All I remember was checking out the headlights of the truck through the rearview mirror, as I tried to make a turn and then a sudden crushing feeling as my car went straight for the wall.
I can’t breathe, I can’t breathe. And even without being able to open my eyes, I knew. I can feel that some of my bones have been broken and I can smell blood everywhere from where I’m seated. If only I can move my seat a bit to let air come through my lungs…let me breathe, if only, if only…
I whimpered and tears once again blurred my vision as it all came crashing back to my memory. It was one of those nights that I spent driving in tears as I am left reeling from the loss of him in my life. I guess I should’ve been careful with what I wished for when I was pleading for everything to just end, for my pain and suffering to just come to a close.
“What really happened, Mary? I flew the very next day after I got the news and when I got here, you were still unconscious. I don’t know what to do, Mary. What happened to you?” And as pain engulfed my whole being at that moment, I still wanted so badly to comfort him as his bloodshot eyes begged me for an answer.
“I wasn’t trying to kill myself,” I knew that’s what he was asking for. I can see a slight relief in his eyes when I said that. “It was an accident and I don’t know. I can’t remember much and now here I am, suddenly waking up… how long have I been unconscious?”
“You’ve been in and out for 5 days, Mary. Everyone’s just so worried thinking that you’re not going to make it. I didn’t know what to do, all I knew was I had to get here when Kara made the call.” And here he is. I don’t know how to feel, think, or be. The last we spoke, he was adamant about shutting me off from his life. My mind is such a mess thinking about the accident, about our situation, about my life. I’m sure it’s all interconnected on how I came to be lying in this hospital bed and barely conscious, but for now, his presence alone is more than enough to overwhelm me.
“You didn’t have to come.” Fuck, the moment I said that, I knew I said the wrong thing. His eyes spoke of utter disbelief and he tried with all his might to reign in his disappointment in me. How is it that even in my condition, all I know how to do well is to push his patience and frustrate him to no end?
“What was I supposed to do all the way in New York, knowing what I know and with everything that has happened and what’s been said between us? You know I care, Mary. Stop saying those–”
“I miss you,” I took a deep breath as I took some time to absorb the weight of my own words. His eyes filled with tears as though he was feeling my very pain upon saying those words to him. The same eyes that held me captive the first moment I looked deep into them and knew he was home. The same eyes that went cold when he turned his back on me and left me in shambles. It must be because of the accident, but I can’t seem to get a good grasp of what his eyes are telling me now amidst his tears.
He let his tears fall as he looked down and gently reached for my hand. Ah, here we go.
“I know, Mary,” he whispered. “I had to make sure you’re safe…alive, for that matter. I won’t be able to take it if, if…”
“If I didn’t make it?”
“Yeah. That’s why I came. I had to see for myself.”
“I did though heh, told you I’m strong,” I had to. I had to inject some humor before he breaks my heart all over again. He looked at me once again and I knew his eyes weren’t sad because he missed me as much or that he was longing for me. It was pity. He was sad for what’s become of me without him since he left. He was sad that I’m still consumed by my love and longing for him. He was sad for the broken girl that broke even more when his love left her.
It felt as though I was being crushed all over again. There was barely enough air in that room for me to breathe. I became even more helpless and weak, and as I stared into his eyes filled with an apologetic kind of sadness, it all came crashing down on me again–
…that soul-crushing realization that even the worst physical pain has nothing on a bleeding and still tormented heart.