You had been working overtime every night for the last three days. The lack of sleep was beginning to take a toll on both your health and work performance, and your boss was starting to get worried.

 "I think you should go home. I can finish up here for you,” she said, taking the pen from your hand and gesturing to the clock.

“No, really it’s alright,” you insisted. “I feel fine.” Admittedly, you were really in need of a break, but you were determined to finish this important project before the end of the week. Your boyfriend worked into the late hours of the night praticing with his group, and you convinced yourself that if he could do that, you were capable of a few sleepless nights for your work as well. Eventually, thinking with this mindset created a senseless determination in you to work as hard as he did every day, disregarding your own health.

Dizzyness overtook you and you began to stumble on your way back to your desk.

“Okay. It’s time for you to go home. Can you drive?” Your co-worker was really concerned about you, and had noticed you weren’t yourself lately. You sighed and nodded your head, making your way out of the building and down to your car.

You had to admit, it was a challenge to stay awake during the drive home, and you found yourself almost falling asleep behind the wheel at least twice. Sleepily, you locked your car and began to walk into the lobby of your apartment complex. As you approached the elevator, you noticed a red sign on the door that read “Out of Order: Please Use Stairs.” You sighed in frustration and began your ascent up the flights of stairs, silently cursing yourself for moving into a room on the ninth floor.

The dizziness in your head seemed to double with every step you took. By the time you reached your door, you could barely see through the blackness that was approaching your vision. As you reached into your purse to find your keys, your legs went weak and you fell to the ground.

Your boyfriend cursed as he called your phone for the fifth time. Your co-worker called and asked him if he would check up on you, and he was beginning to panic that you weren’t answering. After calling once more, he began to rapidly make his way to your apartment and soon found you lying on the ground in front of your door, completely unconcious.

He quickly lifted you up and unlocked the door, closing it behind him with his foot. He carried you to the couch and laid you down, making sure to put a soft pillow behind your head.

You awoke to the sensation of a warm towel being held to your forehead. You opened your eyes. “Hey...Why are you here?” You were surprised to see him in your apartment. “What happened?”

“I should be asking you the same thing,” he said, a sad smile on his face. “You shouldn’t overwork yourself like that.”

“I wasn’t!” you protested weakly, “I was just doing my job.” He looked you sternly in the eyes.

“Your job is to take care of yourself.” You rolled your eyes and tried to stand up once again. However, you were unable to hold yourself up, and fell back onto the couch once again.

“I think I should take you to the doctor,” he said, looking increasingly more concerned. You widened your eyes and shook your head.

“No, I’m really fine! I just need some sleep is all.” You tried to convince him to go home and get some rest, more worried about his health than your own. He sighed and shook his head slightly.

“Fine then.” He picked you up carefully and took you to your bedroom, laying you down gently on the sheets. After turning off the lights, he crawled under the blankets next to you and pulled you close to his chest.

“Get some sleep,” he whispered. “I’ll be here when you wake up.”