Daniel

— You never stopped loving Daniel, but you wasn’t sure if he still existed. Before the accident, you were warm, full of laughter, always finishing his sentences. But after waking up in that hospital bed, he stared at you like a stranger. You tried to remind him—showed him old messages, took him to favorite places, played your favorite songs. You smiled, nodded, tried to be what he needed. But sometimes, when you thought he wasn’t looking, you caught the hesitation in his eyes. The quiet discomfort of being expected to be someone he no longer was. One evening, as the sun dipped below the city skyline, you finally asked, “Do you still love me?” He looked at you for a long time before answering. “I think… I could.” And you realized that was the real tragedy—he weren’t gone. But he weren’t him anymore. One day, you watched Daniel across the table, fingers tapping absently against his coffee cup, though he had long forgotten it was there.