There are days where I feel like I could have done something to stop the bad things. I could have made a deal with time and changed everything. I would have done anything. But that is just a fantasy. Something that could never happen.

Then I have those days where I am content with history and its events. One cannot change the past so why should I waste my energy crying over it? So I don’t sometimes.

It has been 3 years since my boyfriend, Kyuhyun, was killed in a car accident. To be truthful, he didn’t actually die in the accident. It was the injuries it gave him that took his life. But I always say that it was the accident that killed him because when he woke up after two weeks of being unconscious, he remembered nothing. His memory was gone. We were all sure that it would come back, but it never did, even after a year and a half of waiting.

Along with the amnesia, came the horrible visible effects. Kyuhyun had a number of internal injuries that were ending his life slowly. He never had energy to move or even talk. Some weeks would be spent in silence. He didn’t know who I was, but he never minded me around.

But that didn’t mean that I didn’t spend every single day with him. I was there beside his bed for four hundred and twenty three days. Most nights, I didn’t stay over, but I would make sure to visit at least once a day.

The first month was hard and agonisingly painful for the both of us. I tried to stay as supportive and strong for Kyuhyun as possible. If he couldn’t recall who I was, then at least I would. I knew myself and I was not going to let any part of me fall apart.

The first time he opened his eyes, I made sure he could see me. His stare was lost and vacant as he laid his eyes on mine before the nurses began to attend to him. I sat in the chair on the opposite side of the room and watched as he began to get angry. He was in such a foreign world, both physically and mentally. I couldn’t blame him though. Nobody could.

I slept in the chair that night, dreaming of the times we would spend together. I woke up thinking I would be in his arms, breathing in his familiar scent. But instead I was met with the beeping sound of machines, and alone in the most uncomfortable position.

I dragged the seat over to the side of the bed and sat down. Kyuhyun was awake and staring at the ceiling. I will be honest and say that I barely recognised him. The tears just fell at that moment. I buried my face in my hands and cried for a good hour. As far as I know, Kyuhyun just laid there watching me in silence. I always wanted to know what he was thinking during that hour.  

My promise at staying strong was already failing.

During the second month, I became depressed. My house was a total mess, I was drinking more than I could pay for, and Kyuhyun was not getting better. Not to mention, my arms were in constant agony over the inflictions from my own personal emotions. Kyuhyun had five seizures in three weeks. I thought he was going to die. I had never been so sure of something, but instead it was just the beginning of more worse events to come. Like when he lost all feeling to the lower half of his body.

I could tell that he was finding everything difficult. He had learnt that his name was Kyuhyun and that he used to be an amateur singer with big dreams. He asked if he had any friends, so I invited them to visit. During dinner, Kyuhyun took one look at them and threw his plate across the room. The sound of china smashing against the door signalled the end of any friendships he ever had. Everyone he knew no longer wanted to see him.

I started having vivid dreams by the third month. You know the ones where you wake up all sweaty and look like you’ve just lost all sense of your mind? It was the same every night and they never stopped. One morning, I rolled out of my bed, falling on top of all the photos I was crying over the night before. I picked off the one that stuck to my arm and crumbled it up. I couldn’t stand to look at the happy expression on our faces. It reminded me that I had not seen Kyuhyun smile since before the accident. And then I remembered that I hadn’t smiled either. Well not for real anyway.

I destroyed all the photos that day. Some I ripped up and some I burned. I rushed to the hospital at 10:30 that night. It was the first time I had told Kyuhyun something about our relationship.

“I have a boyfriend and we haven’t seen each other in months. We used to lay in bed all day and talk about everything but love. I wish I could have discussed it more to be honest.”

Kyuhyun didn’t say anything.

By the fourth month, I was feeling very distant from everything. I had no desire to visit Kyuhyun. I didn’t ever want to see his stupid face again. I hated him, and I hated him for getting into that car. But every morning before work, I picked myself up and drove over there. Kyuhyun was rather talkative as I entered the room. He put down the book he was reading and looked up at me. He smiled.

He asked me how I was going and why I came here every day. I told him that he looked like someone I knew so I had to speak to him. I didn’t miss the tear that fell down his scarred face when I left him to sleep for the night. I thought that he might be remembering something, but how could such a miracle exist? Depression gave me crazy ideas.

During the fifth month, I was offered counselling. I declined with the excuse of ‘nothing is wrong with me.’ I did need it though. I needed all the help I could get. I had a draw full of blood stained knifes and suicide notes. It was very dramatic.

Kyuhyun told me a story of the visions he had while he was in the coma for two weeks. They were of his childhood and family. It was nothing that involved me. I wished he would at least remember that he used to know someone like me. He didn’t have to recognise my face, just acknowledge that he used to have a boyfriend who he loved. But I tried my best to listen with interest and show all the signs of amazement. It was strange because he had not seen his family in over ten years. He meant nothing to them and now they were all he could remember.

He would tell the same story from the visions for the next ten days. He would speak in a very tasteless tone. His voice had changed and I didn’t like it. I hated to say this, but I was slowly falling out of love with him. I just couldn’t do it anymore.

I didn’t love Kyuhyun. I couldn’t love someone I didn’t know. Kyuhyun was getting weaker from the internal injuries. It was a rare case. The various surgeries he went through to stop the bleeding in his brain were working, but something new would always show up. After six months, we did not expect Kyuhyun to still be alive. I lived every day like it was his last. I was ready to see him go. Seeing him in the bed, barely conscious, knowing that he was in agonising pain, I could tell that he wanted nothing more than to die.

Realisation suddenly hit me.

The seventh month was when I decided to start trying. I walked into his hospital room and sat down next to bed just as usual. I told Kyuhyun the story about the day we met.

“I was working late at the café when you came in. You ordered a black coffee and sat in the corner. I couldn’t help but notice that you just could not take your eyes off me. I told you that the shop was closing but you refused to leave. Since I was alone, I didn’t mind and let you stay. I thought you were handsome and mysterious and you told me that I was cute. After two bottles of wine, we made love on the couch all night. You were so captivating. And that was when I fell in love with you.”

I held his hand in mine, feeling the warmth that I used to know so well. His words were simple:

“That’s a nice story.”

No matter how many stories I told him, Kyuhyun still believed that they were fictional. I never argued with him because he loved to listen. I gave up after a while because retelling the stories was giving me emotional pain. There was no use in getting him to remember. Eight months is a long time.

The thirteenth of May marked nine months. Kyuhyun was finally allowed to leave the hospital during the day. We would go down to the park and sit by the lake. He was frustrated that he had to spend his days in a wheelchair while I got to walk around. It wasn’t fair. But in case you all needed reminding, life isn’t fair anyway. If it was, I wouldn’t have lost Kyuhyun. We would have stayed happy and together. Forever.

He was so fascinated by the nature that surrounded him. It was his first time outside in nearly a year so even the sound of the trees was something special. When he turned to look at me, I could see something familiar in his eyes. It was when I truly recognised him again.

I was reminded of the times when I would wake up in the morning to Kyuhyun kissing me. His dark eyes staring down at mine. was one of things I missed the most. I was tempted to go out and sleep with anyone and everyone but I was faithful in a sense. No one could ever make me feel the way that Kyuhyun made me feel. No one.

Looking at the calendar and seeing it had now been ten months, I felt as though my life was perfect. Nothing was ever going to change and for once, I could finally predict the future. I could see what would happen in the next week. I would wake up, visit Kyuhyun, go to work, go home, cry myself to sleep. Certainty was a big part of my life and I always loved having a routine.

The hospital was considering to let Kyuhyun leave for a few days. I was scared at the idea, but I would live with it. Having him in our house seemed to daunting. The place was a disgrace anyway. But I didn’t have to worry about that for long because Kyuhyun fell into a coma. Timing was always on my side.

I was loving how the doctors were now giving me pathetic looks whenever I came to visit Kyuhyun. They were silently telling me to give up and one even had the ing courage to say it, in clear words directly to my face. It wasn’t much of a confrontation. I was about to give up five months ago. I’ve always been ready to leave.

Eleven months and I was still sitting beside Kyuhyun every day. I stayed for five days straight while he was unconscious. I felt worried whenever he wasn’t awake. The coma made it feel like he was closer to death. So I took it as an opportunity to talk to him like I used to. Like back in those days when we loved each other.

I was quite nervous when I began to speak. I was afraid that I couldn’t do it because I didn’t love him anymore.

“When I was told that you could be coming home for a few days, I was actually really scared. I didn’t think that I could tidy up the place in time. It has just gotten so ridiculous since your accident. It is funny because that morning you complained that I clean too much. I guess if you ever do come back, you would complain about how I don’t clean at all. I can’t seem to please you sometimes, but that’s alright. We both have our faults.”

A year had passed and I celebrated by attempting suicide.

Kyuhyun woke up and told me to leave because he didn’t like my presence. I guess I didn’t like his either if I got to the point of trying to kill myself. Thankfully I was admitted to the same hospital as Kyuhyun. I would sit outside his room since he didn’t want me in there. It still counted as visiting him right?

The one thing I vividly remember was all the psychological help that was being thrown at me. I was practically forced to attend sessions at a clinic, but I was out of there as of two and a half weeks. I thought that since I lived, there must have been something I was living for. It didn’t take long for me to work out that it was obviously Kyuhyun.

I think it was official that I was now crazy. I started to live my days as though Kyuhyun was there with me. I would wake up and look to the empty side of the bed and starting making conversation as though he was lying next to me. I think I believed my fantasy scenarios to be true because I felt nice again. I wanted to love Kyuhyun again.

I was nearing 400 days which meant that thirteen months had passed. One day I was standing outside of Kyuhyun’s room when he invited me in. He told me that he recognised my face like he was remembering. I didn’t wait for him to explain. Instead I just said my name was Sungmin and made the clear statement that I was his boyfriend and that we had been in a relationship for nearly four years. I must have looked like a real love struck fool when I said those things. I really did get excited knowing that this was the moment I had been waiting for.

But if I had learnt anything from Kyuhyun’s time in hospital, it was that nothing goes my way. Nothing. So when Kyuhyun answered me with the facts of his fragmented memory, what was left of my love for him shattered once again. I pretend like I wasn’t listening when he said I was someone he dated before he had even met me. So he remembered me as someone else. Kyuhyun had never even told me about this person before which I thought was rather odd because he used to tell me everything.

He found it difficult to understand that he was wrong about his memory, so I took pity on him and made it out that I forgot who I was and that he should teach me about myself. I was practically pretending to be someone else.

The only thing that made this month bearable was to see Kyuhyun get better. It was slowly happening after a torturous few months and I wasn’t sure what it made me feel. But whatever happened, I was still going to be there for him. I always would be. Even though they said that Kyuhyun would probably never be able to walk again, he still had a chance at living a decent life.

Fourteen months had passed and the first two weeks proved that Kyuhyun was only getting better. However, it was only physical improvement, not mental. I sometimes use the word magical to describe it. It truly is fascinating watching someone who we all thought was dying, suddenly gain strength in life. I woke up one morning with the decision that I would finally tell Kyuhyun who I really was since I believed he was strong enough to handle the realisation.

I was feeling confident in myself when I walked into the hospital that day. I knew I could make things work out between us, I just knew it. Even if I was depressed and having weird feelings towards Kyuhyun, I always felt like circumstances could change.

When I got to his room the doctor told me that he was in a bad state, but I still went in. I stood next to the bed and looked down at the pale figure below. He looked terrible, making me wonder what happened to him overnight. I never said a word for the hour I spent beside him. He wouldn’t hear, he wouldn’t care. I gave him a kiss on the cheek and left the room. It was as if the last two good months had never happened. We were back to the beginning again of cold hard disease. I didn’t even know what was wrong with Kyuhyun anymore.

I had barely got to my car when one of Kyuhyun’s doctors ran up to me. For a split second, I thought he was going to tell me that Kyuhyun had woken up and was asking for me like a ing miracle. My mind had not felt so bright in a long time. But he told me that Kyuhyun had just died. He said it so directly which was what I requested since the day I knew this would all eventually leave him dead.

I never thought about how I would react to his death. I just assumed that I would kind of disappear with him.

I make sure to visit him at least once a month. I have a very busy life now working as a writer instead of whatever boring desk job that used to occupy my time. I fell in love again a year after with a beautiful man, Hyukjae. He had dreams of being a singer, just like Kyuhyun, and did everything he could to make them come true. I was reluctant to be with someone again, but I had met the right person.

It took me a few months before I sought out help for my depression and grief. I had a mind that was hard to crack at first, but once it did, I was retelling my entire past.

I know it sounds macabre, but I wanted to see Kyuhyun die. If I had just stayed in his room for seven minutes, I would have seen the life being taken away from him. I feel like I needed to witness it for a summary of everything that had happened for those fourteen months. I had seen Kyuhyun at his worst and at his best, yet I never saw him when he died. The only time I ever saw his dead body was just before he was buried. I didn’t want to but I had to make sure that he was actually dead and that my senseless mind was not imagining things.          

Most of the time, I feel good. But there are still the odd days where I will sit in my room, crying for hours, wishing that he would come back. I even took it out on Hyukjae once, asking why he was foolish enough to replace Kyuhyun. Why he could not be the man that I once loved with all my heart.

But I have moved on. I believe that if Kyuhyun had died instantly in the accident, I would have killed myself within a week. That always gives me something to think about.