"It's slowly killing her. There's not much that we can do."
"But this doesn't make sense! How can such thing kill her?!"
He stares at her unconscious body, wrapped with wires; trying to keep her alive. The only sounds coming from her were her slow heart beats coming from the monitor, ready to give up.
"It's because it's not hers to begin with." The doctor replies to him.
"What? But she's happy!"
"She is happy, for others."
He stays silent, still confused.
"She doesn't own those happy moments, they're not hers. So when it's all over, it all comes back crashing down, hurting even more than before. Do you understand?" The doctor asks.
He remains silent, tears roll down as he looses hope, looking down at the note she wrote to him:
Those happy moments are too much to bare
When I come home I need self-repair
Those happy moments are aching my heart
When I come home I fall apart
Those happy moments are not mine to share
When I come home I feel despair
