My world came tumbling down around me when I took that phone call. I listened to the words, but I didn’t want to hear them. I must have said something; I just don’t remember what. I hung up, leaning against the wall, not able to move.

I knew I had to pull myself together. You needed me. I had to stop thinking about myself, the thought that I could lose you, so soon after finding you was too terrifying to think about.

The hospital was cold, silent as I made my way to your room. You looked like you were sleeping, but I knew it wasn’t the same as the way you slept in my arms. This sleep was induced, and I didn’t know how long it would last.

I pulled the chair closer to the bed, reaching for your hand. It was cold to my touch, and I rubbed it between my hands, wanting to bring some warmth back into it. I leaned in, placing a soft kiss on your forehead, wondering, hoping that you would know I was here.

You stirred, and I gripped your hand tighter, but you didn’t waken.

I wanted to see the blue of your eyes, the smile on your lips, hear the sound of your voice saying my name, but you slept on.

I leaned back in the chair, knowing that nothing would make me leave your side.

Voices carried past the room, people came and went, giving me encouraging smiles, saying words to reassure me as the hours past.

I must have dozed off, dreaming that something was squeezing my hand. I forced my eyes open, and my heart jumped as I looked into your blue eyes.

You were back with me; I could breath again. This disease was part of you, but so was I.

No matter how many times my world came crashing down around me, somewhere I would find the strength to fight. It would not win and take you from me.