My Love Let Me Go [COMPLETED]

April 23rd2020/ Thursday

Minas POV

???

Days pass in a blur, though I can never quite tell when one ends and another begins. The lights in the room flicker dimly at night, and in the mornings, the world outside the window seems to change in tiny, imperceptible ways clouds drifting by, a bird landing on the windowsill, a passerby catching my eye for just a second before disappearing into the distance. Sometimes, Tzuyu appears, her laughter filling the silence, her touch grounding me in the present. I reach for her, and she's always there. Her smile, her gentle fingers brushing against my skin—it all feels so real. But more often than not, she slips away again, leaving me in this strange room with the woman in the white coat and the nurses who never seem to have any answers. The silence grows deeper when she's not around, and I'm left alone with my thoughts that refuse to make sense. I try to focus on Tzuyu, to hold onto the memory of her, but it's slipping through my fingers like water. How can I hold onto something that keeps fading away?

"Mina, you need to try and remember", the woman says one day.

Her voice is soft, too soft, but there's something in it that feels insistent.

"There was an accident. Do you remember what happened to Tzuyu? Your wife?".

The question makes my chest tighten. An accident? No. That can't be right. It's too far-fetched, too painful to entertain. I shake my head, rejecting the idea, even though my mind is struggling to grasp it. The word accident just doesn't fit.

"Tzuyu's fine", I say, my voice firm.

"She's just not here right now. She'll come back. She always does".

But Dr. Kang her name is Dr. Kang, I think just watches me with that same sad expression she always wears. She doesn't believe me. I can see it in her eyes, the pity, the doubt. It frustrates me, how she never believes me, how no one ever believes me. They ask these questions, like they think I'm wrong, like I don't know the truth. Tzuyu is real. She's my wife. She's out there waiting for me. She has to be. I don't care how many times they tell me I'm mistaken or how many questions they ask. I know what I know. I won't let them convince me otherwise. I try to explain to Dr. Kang, but she just keeps writing things down, nodding, not hearing me at all. She tries to prod at my memories, asking about the accident, about Tzuyu, about my life before. I don't want to answer her questions. I don't want to talk about things that hurt, things that feel too distant, like they're not mine to hold anymore. So, I pull away from everyone. I spend more time by the window, staring out at the world that's moving without me. I wait for Tzuyu to come back, my fingers trailing over the glass as if I can reach her through the panes. Please come back. Dr. Kang insists on asking questions I don't want to answer. Every question feels like an intrusion. The nurses keep giving me pills that make my mind foggy, dull. I hate it. I hate all of it. They tell me the pills will help me feel better, but they don't help. They just make everything feel far away. Sometimes, it's like I'm watching myself from a distance, a pale version of me that doesn't quite belong in this room, in this body. I can't think clearly with them, and I know it's making it worse. I feel disconnected, like I'm living in a dream. But the dream doesn't make sense either. I reach for the edges, but it's like they're always just out of reach, fading into nothingness. Tzuyu's face, her laugh, the way she holds me when I get scared it all feels real. But it's slipping. I can't hold onto it. And sometimes, when I wake up in the middle of the night, I hear her voice. It's faint, like it's coming from far away, but it's enough to make my heart race, enough to make me feel like I'm not so alone. I can hear her calling my name in that soft, comforting way she always did. But when I reach for her, she's not there. It's just me, alone in this sterile room, the hum of the machines the only sound I hear. Tzuyu... where are you? Why won't you come back? Why did you leave me with these strange doctors who think I'm crazy? Was this your present for me? To send me away? I want to scream, but I don't. I can't. The silence is suffocating enough. So I stay quiet. I stay in this strange limbo, waiting for the moment when everything will make sense again.