**One of the best ones that I have ever read on Tumblr. It is amazing!**
My girlfriend has been in hospital for the last week. Something about… something. She wouldn’t tell me exactly what happened because she didn’t want me to worry, but worry I did. A lot.
I’m getting a little bit sidetracked. Point is, she hasn’t been home in seven days, that’s one hundred and sixty-eight fucking hours, and I’d been an absolute wreck since about hour two. Can you blame me, though? Who doesn’t worry about the most important people in their lives when they’re hospitalised? I don’t think I’ve slept properly since I heard her brother had to drive her to the hospital with, and I quote, “burning pain in her lower abdomen”. Every couple of hours I would jolt awake from my almost-sleep, visualising all the things that could have happened. Did her appendix burst? Did she break something?
Then I got a text from her mother this morning, telling me she was being discharged and would be out by eleven. I think that was the fastest I had ever gotten out of bed. I nearly smacked my head on the headboard. That was eight o’clock, three hours ago, which means she’s on her way home right this second. I’m a ball of nervous energy, scuttling from room to room and looking for something to occupy myself with for the next… I check my phone clock. Twenty minutes. Only twenty. I just have to avoid an excitement-induced catastrophe for twenty more minutes.
Flicking aimlessly through brightly coloured shows on the television, I settle on a music video channel. Slapping my hands on the coffee table, I manage to get lost in the rhythm for a while. Glancing at the clock on the wall, I grin to myself. Seven minutes. I start drumming on the table again, adding my own little flair every few bars.
Four. I switch off the TV, taking it upon myself to tidy up the living room a little. I’m just putting the last DVD away when I hear a car, wheels scraping on gravel, pull up to the garage.
Opening the door, my lips stretch into a huge grin as I watch my dark-haired beauty walking towards me. I take careful note of the awkwardness of her movements, watching where her fingers linger so I know where not to touch.
"Missed you." I murmur when she reaches me, supported by her mother’s hand at her elbow. I really have, as sappy as that is.
"Missed your hugs," she replies. Patting her mother’s arm, she says "If I know Ash, and I do," she glances at me, laughter in her sleepy eyes, "He’ll be happy to take care of me."
I nod firmly. “She’ll be sick of me by the time she’s back to one hundred per cent,” I confirm with a chuckle, drawing her to me with a gentle tug.
Once we’re alone, I kiss her forehead, her nose and finally her soft lips, feather-light. “How does a movie day sound?”
"Do I get to pick?"
"Of course you get to pick, you’ve been away for a week and you’re sore." I reply, leading her into the living room. Sitting at the end of the couch, I open my arms for her, resting my chin on her head when she settles herself against my chest.
"Can we just do this for a while?" she says, tipping her head back so our eyes meet.
Pressing a kiss to her upside down nose, I take a second to thank whoever is listening for this girl. “I’ve been waiting one hundred and sixty-eight hours to have you back here. I wouldn’t ask for anything else.”
