My Life Is You

Dillon heard a knock on the hospital room and out of habit turned his head. He didn’t see a thing. Of course he didn’t. He was blind. But the automatic response was still there. Someone knocked, you turned to see who it was.

The person at the door nervously cleared his throat. He didn’t say anything, but he didn’t need to. Dillon already knew who it was. Brad was here.

It had been a week since Dillon had awoken from his coma. Each day he had hoped that Brad would arrive. Each day, he was too scared to ask where Brad was. The dread that Brad had died in the accident was too awful. Dillon hadn’t wanted to risk finding out it was true, so he had never asked.

Now, though, Brad was here! He was alive! Dillon didn’t care where he had been. After all, he had been so badly injured, surely Brad had spent his own time in the hospital. This could very well be the first day that Brad was well enough to come see him.

Feeling a now unfamiliar smile curve his lips, Dillon spoke. "Brad, oh Brad, you’re alright!" He held out his left arm, his right still strapped to his side.

"Hello Dillon," Brad said with a tremor in his voice as he walked forward.

Dillon expected to feel Brad’s hand in his, Brad’s lips on his. Instead, Brad placed something wrapped in his outstretched hand.

"I didn’t bring flowers," Brad rushed to say. "I wasn’t sure if you would want them since you can’t, well, you know."

There was an awkward silence. Dillon would have loved anything Brad had brought him. If Brad had arrived with flowers, than Dillon would have thought of him every time he smelled them.

"Go ahead, open it," Brad urged after a tense moment. "I hope you like it. It was the only thing I could really think of."

"Whatever it is, I’m sure I’ll love it," Dillon responded. He awkwardly reached out and placed the package on the table suspended over the bed. Next, he tore into the paper, getting frustrated as the box scooted out of reach time and again.

Brad never offered to help. Instead, he just stood there, saying nothing.

Finally, the wrapping was off the box. Dillon felt around until he found the flap and pried it open. He spilled the contents onto the table.

"Careful!" Brad exclaimed. "You don’t want to break it."

"Ok, I won’t break it," Dillon responded. "What is it?"

Brad gave off a nervous laugh. "It’s a tape recorder. I also have five books on tape for you. I know what a book worm you are and that you were really getting into those medical thrillers, so I thought you might like to have them to listen to while you’re here."

"That’s great," Dillon said, smiling. "Of course, I won’t have much time to listen to them now that you’re better. All my available hours are going to be spent with you. I’m so gladly you weren’t badly hurt!"

There was another awkward silence. Then Brad cleared his throat again. "I was lucky Dillon. I wasn’t hurt at all."

"You weren’t? How is that possible?" Dillon couldn’t seem to wrap his brain around that fact. The accident had been so bad he’d ended up blind and in a coma for two weeks. Now Brad was saying that he’d come out of if without a scratch. How was that possible?

"Didn’t they tell you anything about the accident?" Brad asked, his voice low.

"I never asked," Dillon admitted. "I was kind of too scared of what they would say."

Dillon heard Brad inhale and hold his breath before letting it out slowly. Then, Brad moved forward and took Dillon’s hand.

Dillon’s body sang at the contact. He’d missed the feel of Brad’s slender hand in his own. He rubbed the pad of his thumb over Brad’s perfectly manicured nails, seeing them in his mind.

"We were hit on the passenger side, Dillon," Brad said. "I never saw him coming. It was at the corner of Ericson and Maple. You know how that intersection is. All those trees and the stop signs on Maple. Half the time you can’t see them because of the low-hanging branches."

Dillon screwed up his forehead in thought, picturing a map in his head. "Why weren’t we on Ericson? Why would we have been on Maple?"

"We were on Ericson. And we had the right of way. It never occurred to me to check and see if anyone was on Maple. It was so late at night and Maple’s not a busy road even during rush hour. I just kept driving along, I never even saw him!"

Dillon brought Brad’s hand to his face and rubbed it against his cheek, making low, soothing sounds with his voice, trying to comfort Brad the best he could. "It’s okay Brad. Whatever happened, I’m sure it wasn’t your fault. But you need to tell me what happened."

Brad took a deep breath. Dillon could hear how shaky he was, even if he couldn’t see it. "I had just driven out into the intersection. You were asleep. I saw the lights to my right, but I didn’t look. After all, if there were a car there, surely they’d stop! But he didn’t. He came barreling out into that intersection. He was flying Dillon! He was going so fast I couldn’t think fast enough, move fast enough. And then he just slammed into the car. My airbags went off and I was thrown against them. Yours didn’t do a thing. I remember feeling my seat belt tighten and my body hitting the airbags, but then I remember your body hitting mine.

"When I came to, there were ambulances and paramedics and police everywhere. They took me to the ER. I tried to see you, but they wouldn’t let me. You have to believe that Dillon! They wouldn’t let me!"

"Shhhh, shhhh, it’s okay," Dillon comforted Brad. "I know you would have been by my side the whole time if they had let you been."

Brad stepped back, pulling his hand out of Dillon’s grasp. "I wanted to be there for you. It was killing me inside not to be there. All I did was think about the accident and how you could have died. I walked away from it, but you didn’t."

"No, I didn’t walk away. Even if I hadn’t broken anything, I wouldn’t have been able to see where I was walking," Dillon allowed some bitterness to creep into his voice. The doctors and nurses kept telling him how lucky he was to be alive, how lucky he was that he’d walk again. Walk where, he wanted to yell. I can’t see, how on earth am I going to know where I’m walking?

No one seemed to notice, though. They just kept talking about his luck. At the moment, he didn’t feel lucky at all.

"I know," Brad said. "I know you’re blind and I know it’s my fault. That’s why I haven’t been here. I figured you wouldn’t want to see . . . I mean talk to me."

"Oh Brad no!" Dillon exclaimed. "I always wanted you here. I was just too scared to ask where you were."

Dillon heard Brad take another deep breath. "The thing is, Dillon, I really have spent all this time thinking. Whether you believe it or not, I still see the accident as my fault. I still tell myself over and over again that I should have been more alert. I know I’m responsible for your being blind.

"I’m not strong enough, Dillon. I’m not strong enough to spend the rest of my life with you, looking at you, knowing I took away your life. I just can’t do it, Dillon."