He was waiting for the night to dense. He was waiting for my eyes to shut. His life was my dreams. I wonder if I was living in his nights or he lived in mine.
I kept my sleep away. I wished I could see him. I kept myself up for days. Maybe he was enjoying his sleep.
The fifth day, I was on my way to work. Maybe he was bored sleeping. He wanted his life back. He came before me. He was me. But foggy. He wanted to wake up. I was reluctant to give up. He stood right in front of me.
I lost my balance. I was on the road. My vision was fading. But he was getting clearer.
In my hospital bed in a coma, I saw his life. As the days passed he wanted to wake up. He would never have thought it was going to be never ending days for him if I slip into a coma. Now he is trying hard to wake me up with those horrible dreams of his’s.