It had been days since I last saw Ar-Nueng at the hospital.

I'm worried.

Did she get sick?

Was it because my grandmother slapped her and told her never to see me again?

Surely, she wouldn't let that stop her?

Right?

Ar-nueng already admitted to them that she loves me.

She couldn't go back on what she said.

I would be mad if she had a change of heart.

***

Maybe she was unwell.

I mean, who wouldn't' be?

What happened was a lot.

The accident, the confrontation with my family, the warning not to see me again.

But I would love for her to be here.

I've never seen my mother or Chet this much.

It was sad how this had to happen for them to be present in my life.

Don't get me wrong.

I felt bad for them too.

It must be hard to see me in this state – motionless, asleep for hours on end.

I would have love to wake up but I couldn't.

There was a resistance I couldn't fight.

Perhaps everything in me was united in its desire to just be still for as long as I could.

Was this a plea for a ceasefire from the tumult of the past months since our relationship was discovered?

Everything was chaotic since that happened.

Chet was outraged that Khun Nueng was in love with me.

My mother wanted to take me to the US and my grandmother was all for it.

They would do everything to separate Ar-Nueng and I.

It was their wishes against what we wanted.

I found it absurd because I'm not a child.

I was capable of making my own decisions but their anger overruled everything.

***

What was that story in Greek Mythology?

That guy who went to the land of the dead in an attempt to bring his dead wife back?

Luckily for Ar-Nueng, I'm not dead yet.

I'm barely alive either but this is better than totally kicking the bucket.

I wondered if she would do it.

Let's assume I died and she was overcome by grief and couldn't let go of it.

Would she venture to the underworld to bring me back?

What would she offer them?

A painting?

Her beauty?

A cherished memory?

I smiled at the romantic thought because really?

Ar-Nueng.

My Ar-Nueng.

She who couldn't be bothered to spend time with me when I was still okay?

I had to push and push until she had no other choice but to relent.

But would she face the god of death just to have one more chance of us being together?

If she did, I hope she wouldn't make the mistake that the guy did.

He looked behind prematurely and forever lost his chance of being reunited with the love of his life.

Sad.

***

The first few days since the accident, my family and Chet asked each other the same question – if there was any improvement to my condition.

The disappointment on their faces was followed by a sadness I felt from where I was.

As the days went by, their conversations were about the things they were doing.

Normal and mundane but somehow purposeful to all of them.

Chet was campaigning and his popularity rating was high.

He was very satisfied that people favored him over his opponent.

My mother's husband understood that she wanted to be here but he never stopped asking about her return.

It was grandmother who constantly talked about me.

She missed me and how the house felt emptier since this happened.

But once she gets going about the accident, blaming Ar-Nueng for what happened was sure to follow.

It made me angry to hear that.

Ar-Nueng had nothing to do with the driver who didn't see that I was standing in the middle of the road looking for a taxi.

If this was Ar-Nueng fault, then I wouldn't be lying here.

In a way it was good this happened.

My mother couldn't take me to the US.

I was stuck in this hospital bed until I wake up.

But how I wish I could see Ar-Nueng.

It was boring to listen to the random stories my family and Chet talked about.

I don't care about politics.

I wished my mother would see her husband so he would stop nagging her about coming back.

I missed my grandmother too but in this state she didn't need to worry about Ar-Nueng and I.

***

The intense smell of spice was appetizing but not enough to give me a jolt out of my condition.

Ar-Nueng came by with food.

I knew she made it herself.

That conversation we had months ago came back to me.

The woman I love made food for me.

Even in this helpless state, she wanted to show how loved I was despite my inability to reciprocate.

My excitement for what she did was cut short.

Grandmother tossed the food in the garbage bin.

I was appalled not only because she wasted that glorious dish but because of what her gesture meant.

It didn't matter that Ar-Nueng spent all that time and energy to make something I would like.

For me, that gesture meant our love was nothing to them.

It hurts before when I was there to see it.

I felt the imaginary pain while I lay here helpless to fight the prejudice.

"Ar-Nueng, I'm stuck somewhere I couldn't get out of but I want you to know this."

"No matter where I am, my heart will always be yours."