because he loves me.
\She had rushed out of the house as soon as she realised that she couldn't let him go, that she belonged by his side; now and forever.
It had taken her a full year to go from confusion, slight dislike, hatred and then...finally love for this man whom she could only remember meeting for the first time in the hospital where she had woken up.
She couldn't remember anything, not even him. But he was the first face that she had seen when she woke up and since then, she hadn't known anyone but him.
And that could be one of the biggest reasons why she had hated him so much; she was channelling all her anger, hurt and frustration towards him because she didn't know what else to do.
She had put him through hell this past year, and not once did he complain.
She was doubtful at first when she got into the car and sat behind the wheel, the keys cold against the warmth that her palms radiated. She wasn't sure if she was making the right decision. He had let her go, so should she accept his decision? Shouldn't she honour it?
It was possible that he had let her go for his own reasons; perhaps he had decided that he had had enough of her, or maybe he wanted to move onto someone else and start his life anew away from her. But when she thought about this, about spending a day without seeing his face in the morning when he cooked, or the way that he would look at her before he left for work.
There hadn't been a day -no matter how rough it had been, or how angry she was with him- where he had not come to stand at her bedroom doorway before she went to bed. He would stand there for a little while, just gazing at her, his eyes glazed over as if he was in his own world. A little smile adorned his face as he would lean against the doorframe, his arms crossed over his chest. Not one night had she gone to bed without him wishing her good night and pleasant dreams, promising that he would be just across the hall if she needed him during the night.
Even though there were days where she would scream in frustration that he wouldn't leave her alone, or she would throw objects at him because she just couldn't bear to see his face any longer...but despite all that, he stuck around, loving her, caring for her.
Even that other man -whom she had recently found out was actually her brother- kept his visits to a minimum. He was always good with her, talking to her about his work, family and hobbies. But he rarely visited, his weekly visits soon becoming monthly drop ins where he wouldn't stay more than half an hour. She couldn't remember him, but she knew she loved him because he was her brother, but she couldn't stand it when she saw the pity in his eyes, or when he would get emotional since she couldn't remember him.
He just couldn't handle the fact that she didn't remember; that she was probably never going to.
Her brother couldn't care for her like he could.
He couldn't put up with her when she got frustrated at not being able to do something by herself. He didn't have to convince her to take her medicine three times a day. He didn't stand by and watch her sit on one spot for hours on end, staring off into the distance, hating life for the hand that it had served her. He hadn't watched her glare at him when he tried to help her, or when he tried to get her to eat her meals.
This man had seen the absolute worst of her and yet he stuck around because he loved her.
And she knew now -now that everything was gone and he had left- that she needed to get back to him. And so, that was exactly what she did.
Even if he tried to turn her away, she would fight for him -she would fight because he had fought for so long, and now it was her turn to fight for what mattered; to fight for what she cared about.
To fight for the man that she now realised, she loved.