Two Years

It’s been two years. Two years since we got the call. Two years since the frantic drive to the hospital. Two years since the accident that tore you away. Two years since I walked through the doors of the burn unit. Two years since I put on that yellow gown and a pair of gloves and walked into your hospital room. Two years since the trash can in that room was the only thing keeping me standing. Two years since I looked at your face and didn’t recognize it. Two years since I looked at you in disbelief as the machine kept you breathing. Two years since I spent hours sitting in a stuffy hallway in uncomfortable chairs, waiting to know more. Two years since doctors and nurses breezed in and out, rattling off things I couldn’t wrap my head around. Two years since the words “severe burns,” “critical condition,” and “multiple surgeries” bounced around my head in a blur. Two years since I learned that fourth degree burns existed. Two years since I dashed around the hospital looking for your personal belongings, just so I could feel useful. Two years since I was at a loss for something to do just to feel useful. Two years since minutes felt like hours as I waited for answers I’d never get. Two years since I told myself over and over that you’d be okay because you had to be. Two years since I was wrong. Two years since I wore a bracelet that read “My story isn’t over yet,” and held your hand and told you that yours wasn’t over either. Two years since I haven’t been able to look at that bracelet without feeling like I’m falling apart. Two years since I spent hours trying to hold myself together when all I wanted to do was break down and cry. Two years since I sat hoping you’d be alright and open your eyes again. Two years since we sat in that hallway, talking about what would happen when you woke up. Two years since my life was flipped upside down again. Two years since we lost you even though your heart was still beating. Two years since you were ripped away. Two years since I was broken beyond repair and two years since my heart shattered. Two years since my throat tightened and I forgot how to breath. Two years have gone by since that day; that horrible day. Two years since I lived through one of the worst days of my life, and yet, I would give anything to go back to that day. Because on that day, I still had hope that you’d wake up. On that day, you were still alive. It’s been two years, but somehow, it still feels like yesterday.

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