• The night of my first real fight with my boyfriend was also the night I had almost lost him. We had been joking around at my house and he had taken one of the jokes too far. I laughed at first but then he took it even further. I stopped laughing and became offended. I suggested he leave and before I knew it, our first fight had began and ended. He stormed out the door without a word. No hug. No kiss. No “I love you”. Nothing. About thirty minutes after he left I decided to call him and apologize for overreacting. No answer. I wait another thirty minutes later. No answer. I wait an hour and a half this time and still no call. And again, no answer. I fall asleep around midnight thinking he’s still infuriated with me. I am awakened by my cell phone ringing. I answer it thinking it was my boyfriend. “I’m sorry, Drew. I overreacted.” I was shocked to hear an extremely low, unfamiliar voice reply. “Hello, this is the Sentara hospital. Have you been calling a young man named Andrew Hunt?” he asked. “Yes,” I replied. “I tried a few times last night and he didn’t answer. Is he alright?” There was a long pause before he answered me. “Mr. Hunt was in a terrible car accident last night around nine o’clock and has been checked in as a patient here. We went through his belongings and found his cell phone and noticed you had been calling.” I listened as he told me which room my boyfriend was in and how he was doing; he was in a coma and clinging to life. I thanked the man and as if in a daze, I tell my mom where I’m headed and that I probably will stay overnight. She hugs me and assures me that he will be alright. I get in my car and still as if in a trance, drive over to the hospital and hastily make my way to the hall he was located. A nurse escorted me to
    Drew’s door and assured me that it was one of the best hospitals in the state. She left me on that note and I stood at the door for a little while. The nurse acknowledged me and asked if she could help with anything. “You can go ahead in,” she said smiling. Her broad grin did not make me feel better one bit. The only person I wanted to see smile was Drew. I slowly pushed the door open and walked inside. The room was small yet there was enough room to walk around and put down chairs. While I was examining the room, I came across the moderate sized hospital bed; the one thing I had been trying to avoid. In the bed was someone I did not recognize.
    He had cuts, bruises, stitches and bandages all over his face and arms. His head was completely shaven from the brain surgery performed the moment he arrived. But the one difference that I noticed the most was that he wasn’t smiling. Every time I saw him, a smile blossomed on his face. Now, there was no emotion within him, his eyes closed, his body still. I held his hand and cried. I don’t know how long I was crying, but all I know is that I stopped when I heard someone gasp. I spun around to his mother dropping her purse, her hands over her face. I stood and she ran over and hugged me. We cried together until she said, “You’re so young. Both of you are just so young. But I know this must be hard for you. I know you love him with all you’re heart. More then he knows.” I just nodded and she hugged me again.
    A few weeks had passed and I awoke to the sound of someone’s voice. “Oh! I’m sorry,” exclaimed the nurse. “Did I wake you?” I stirred a bit. “No, you’re fine. I was already waking up,” I lied. I got up and went into the hall to get water. I stood at the dispenser holding the button when the nurse came out. “Did you see?” she asked me. I gave her a confused looked. “See what?” I replied. “Go in and see for yourself!” she exclaimed cheerfully as she scampered away. I walked back into the room to see my boyfriend staring at the door. I dropped my water onto my shoes. I ran over to his bed and hugged him. “Drew!” I exclaimed, almost crying. To my dismay, all I heard were scream. I stopped hugging him long enough to see him kicking and yelling, “Help! Help! There’s a stranger in my room! Mom help!” two nurses walked in to calm him down. I watch them gently hold his legs down to keep him from kicking. I couldn’t watch. He didn’t remember me. He didn’t remember anything about me. Did he remember everyone else? Was it just me? One nurse came out to see me crying and told me I could come back in when I was ready. She said they were explaining the situation to him and that, in time, he would remember. A few minutes later, I built up the courage to go back in. They were explaining to him that he was in a hospital and that his mom wasn’t here, but she would be later. Then one nurse came to me and explained the surgery that had taken place when he had first arrived. The part of his head he had hit was part of his memory. He only remembered some things, but they assured me that in the past, most have eventually remembered most of their life with some help. I fought back tears as I sat in the chair, that I had scooted away from his bedside, and watch them try and explain why he was here. A week or so later, I came upstairs to Drew’s room, bringing our lunches. I set up the small table that goes over his bed and lay down his food. I sat in the seat across the room and began to eat. “What’s you’re name?” he asked me. “I know I’ve asked you before, but I forgot. I’m sorry.” I give him a small smile. “It’s okay. It’s not your fault. My name is Rachel.” I gave him another smile and went back to my lunch. I looked up and he was staring at me. “Do you need something?” I asked. “Did I forget your drink?” He stared at me for a few more seconds. “No,” he replied. “It’s just that you seem strangely familiar.” We stared at each other for a few more moments, and then I finally said, “Well, I’ve been here for a few weeks. That’s probably why.” He examined me for a few more seconds then finished his lunch. After we were both done, I collected all of the plates and napkins and extra food. Before I left, as I was leaning over him cleaning up his table, he looked at me and said, “You know, you’re very pretty. Whoever snagged you is a lucky man.” He smiled and I stared at him, trying to fight back tears. “Yes,” I replied quietly. “He always said he was the luckiest man in the world.” I smiled at him and went downstairs. That night, I awoke to someone calling my name. At first, I thought that I was dreaming, but then I heard it again. I turned around to see Drew sitting up in his bed, crying. I threw my blanket on the floor. “Yes Drew?” I said. He stared into my eyes for what seemed like hours, tears streaming down his face. “I love you,” he managed to say through the lump in his throat. I broke down in tears. “I remember Rachel. I remember now! I met you in sixth grade on a field trip where we became best friends, and I was always in love with you. Our anniversary is June twelfth.” I was clinging to him, crying, as he recited all of the memories we shared. “And I meant to ask you this question the day we got in our fight…” I stopped hugging him and stared at him as he took my hand and took something from the bag his mom had dropped off a few hours ago; she said that he would need everything in that bag. It was a small box, and as he opened it, the moonlight streaming into the room made a diamond ring shimmer. “Will you marry me?”