'It'll be alright, I promise'
Except the frown marring her beautiful face and the sole tear sliding down her cheeks onto mine speaks differently.
Being comatose is a strange state. I can hear her sobs, but can't console her. I can see her beauty, but can't worship her out aloud. I can inhale her scent but can't hold her tight in my embrace. I can feel her reliving our past memories, moments we cherished together... but can't tell her to move on...
It's been exactly 6 months now, 15,780,020 seconds precisely. When you are lying in bed with nothing else to do, you count, you observe and you recall. Which it so happens, I tend to do plenty...snapshots of me and Anusha, the day we met, laughing together with the native kids, late nights of social media watching, braving through difficult terrains, shy smiles over cups of coffee, beatific sighs, and stolen kisses, a plethora of memories... some good, some bad, all precious.
Just as suddenly, my thoughts turn dark. The day of the crash, our car tumbling down the cliff, our terrified eyes, me wrapping myself around her to take the brunt of the injuries, the searing pain across my chest...her petrified sobs and ill-placed promises that I'll be alright. Even then, I knew it was a plain-faced lie. Which is why I made her promise...amidst gasping breaths, blurring sight and trembling limbs, I did make her promise...and then everything went black.
And black it's been ever since. 181 days, 6 hours and 37 minutes have passed. She's been here every single day. It's funny how my heart still manages to somersault at her sight. It beckons her closer, yet nothing comes out of my mouth. My mind pleads of her to let me go and yet nothing comes out of my mouth. My conscience lets out a wry laugh at my helplessness, and still, nothing comes out of my mouth.
The sound of a whimper brings me back to the angelic face lying over my chest. Gone is the perpetual optimism, what remains is helplessness mirroring mine.
' I can't do this. I know I promised, but I can't do this...I can't...'she chokes out...
Yes, yes you can, sweetheart if anybody can...it's you. Don't go back on your promise now, Anu.
You don't need me to be nice, good and kind, just be true to yourself. You don't need me to teach you love, you are the epitome of it yourself, unadulterated and unconditional. Someday a much more handsome and debonair prince will come your way and sweep you off your feet.
She abruptly gets up and wipes her tears frantically. She hollers the doctor and nurses...and with a determined look, fulfills her promise.
'P-promise me Anu...if...i die...you won't...grieve...for me more...t-t-than 6 months...and...you'll...send me off...with a smile'
She manages a watery farewell smile, and my last thought is...
' I wish I could tell you, I don't need heaven, you're it for me.'
YOU ARE READING
Wish I could tell you
Short Storysometimes I think i fell in love with because you are the perfect partner. one who listens and doesnt talk back. confined to bed, you have little chance to go astray. i can control the length of your facial hair, your hairstyle,so you look like the...
