The Man Who Never Lost Hope

The Man Who Never Lost Hope

A Story by Autumn

A man waits for his significant other to wake up from a coma, never losing the hope that she will open her eyes once again.


    He waited for her. Every single chance he had, he would visit the hospital and would wait for her to wake up. Every time he visited her, he would tell her everything and anything he could think of, from how much everyone missed her to what he had ate for breakfast that morning. Every day, he would bring in a vase full of lilies, her favorite flower, and describe them to her in great detail.


      Each time he would walk into that bright, white hospital room, he would drag the most uncomfortable chair he could find in that room over to her bedside. He would then intertwine her pale, lifeless fingers with his bruised ones. He would take in her skin that was the color of pure snow, her flawless black obsidian curls, her cherry blossom lips, and her eyelids that hid her forget-me-not blue eyes that he would do anything for them to be gazing at him just one more time even if for only a few short moments before beginning his one sided conversation.

Occasionally when talking became to be too much, too painful, he would simply bring her favorite book with him and read it to her. He would change the tone of his voice to signify the different characters. He had a different voice for each and every single one in the book. He would voice the novel as if it were a production right inside of that hospital room.

Sometimes when he had free time during the day before visiting her, he would write her a letter as if she was living out of town instead. When he would go visit her like he did every single day, he would read them to her, telling her how much she was missed and that he was thinking of her every single second of each day. Each time after he had finished, he would delicately fold the handwritten letter and stick it in an old shoebox that he had set on top of her white nightstand where he kept every single one of the others he had written, hoping that when she finally woke up that she would read them all.

Whenever the pain became too unbearable to even speak, he would bring her old portable music player with every one of her favorite songs on it and play it on shuffle for her. He would silently sit beside her, hold her limp hand, and let the music speak for him. On occasion, he would softly sing along with the lyrics to her. He would stare at her and quietly sing the melodies she had grown to love, wordlessly wanting, hoping, for her to unexpectedly wake up and join him in the singing, that she would encourage him to sing louder and not to be so shy.

On the extremely rare occasions, the hurt would become so severe that even simply listening to the music she once danced to would become agonizing torture. It would feel like someone had ripped his heart out and began to squeeze it with a vise. He would sit in the same stiff chair he sat in every day when he was with her and gently cradle her small, fragile hand in his gigantic, rough one. He would stare at her sleeping face and silently allow the tears to fall from his glossy emerald eyes. He would just let the droplets repeatedly slide down his face, not bothering to lift his free hand to wipe away his sadness.

No matter what he did with her for the two hours that he was visiting, the last thirty minutes he reserved for taking care of her room. He would water the lilies that were still alive while he would throw out the wilting ones if need be. He then would place the empty vase into his backpack so it would be available for him to use to replace the dead lilies. He would gather anything he had brought with him that day and also set it in his backpack. Afterwards, he would straighten anything and everything that appeared to be out of place. Lastly, he would walk up to her bed after placing the chair back in its original spot. He would lean down, gently tuck her dark ringlets behind her ear, and quietly whisper, “Keep fighting, my sweetheart. I love you so much more than all the words in world could ever express.” He then placed a feather light kiss on her forehead before walking out of the hospital, only briefly stopping to say goodbye to her parents if they were there.

One thing he would never do throughout any of his countless visits is ask her to wake up. She was an extremely stubborn person who almost always did the opposite of what people had asked her to do. It was one of her many traits that he had grown to adore about her. He also thought that if she could actually hear him, like the doctors said she very possibly could, she would not need another person adding onto the begging and pleading for her to slip back into consciousness. He knew that she would want someone to treat her as if she was sitting there with him, like a normal person would.

Her parents always left their daughter whenever he came to visit her. The kind couple repeatedly gave him time to be alone with her. Every now and then, they would stand directly outside of the doorway of the hospital room, secretly listening to him talk to their daughter as if she was still walking and talking, completely aware of the world around her. One time, her parents heard not a sound coming from the room, which was unusual. He was constantly talking to her, reading to her, or even simply listening to music with her. Concerned, her mother peeked inside and what she saw caused her to turn away with tears rapidly falling from her eyes. Her father enveloped his wife up into his arms. “He’s sitting beside her, holding her hand, and noiselessly sobbing. I’m not sure how much more he can take of this, much less us,” she cried into his chest. Her father stared into the room and sighed, nodding.

Two years had passed. He became the only one to visit her on a daily basis. Her parents’ visits dwindled down to at least once a month while her friends’ appeared to have completely forgotten about her. He came so often that all the nurses knew him by his name, but many continued to refer to him as ‘the man who never lost hope’.

One day while strolling down the street on his way to the hospital, he received a call from there. He inhaled a deep breath and slowly released it, mentally preparing himself for the worst news he could possibly think of. He glanced at the screen once more before answering. “She’s awake.” These were the only words he needed to hear before hanging up and sprinting the rest of the way to the hospital, to her.

As soon as he had made it to the hospital, he immediately located the stairwell. He leaped up the steps, taking two at a time all while clutching onto the bouquet of lilies he had bought that same morning. He skillfully dodged the doctors, nurses, and other hospital personnel, jumping left or right, but not slowing, much less stopping, for any one of them. There was only one thought racing through his mind: I have to get her. I have to see her. It was repeating over and over again in his head like a mantra.

As he finally reached the end of the hallway where her room was located, he slowed down to a normal pace for walking, attempting to catch his breath.  His pace slowed down as he got closer, the anticipation significantly building.

He silently strolled into her hospital room, his eyes shining with unshed tears. “You’re awake,” he whispered, barely loud enough for her to hear.

She slightly turned her head toward him. Her obsidian ringlets were surrounding her head like a dark halo. Her cherry blossom lips were slightly parted. Finally, he stared at her pale blue eyes gazing back at him, appearing to be full of confusion. “Excuse me, but do I know you?”

He felt his heart shatter into a million pieces as soon as the words registered in his mind. 

© 2018 Autumn

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I have gone through something very similar- I tried so hard not to lose hope, but found myself slipping up at times. I deeply related to this man. He was the person I wanted to be so desperately. The end was truly heartbreaking. You could just feel exactly what he felt. I am amazed at your way of describing settings and characters so quickly. Great story.

Posted 2 Weeks Ago

1 of 1 people found this review constructive.


This is the story of true devotion. This is how a person commits to wedding vows above and beyond just saying the words. The ending splits your heart in two. but the endings to all the people we love will be painful

Posted 1 Week Ago

1 of 1 people found this review constructive.

I have gone through something very similar- I tried so hard not to lose hope, but found myself slipping up at times. I deeply related to this man. He was the person I wanted to be so desperately. The end was truly heartbreaking. You could just feel exactly what he felt. I am amazed at your way of describing settings and characters so quickly. Great story.

Posted 2 Weeks Ago

1 of 1 people found this review constructive.

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2 Reviews
Shelved in 1 Library
Added on January 2, 2018
Last Updated on January 2, 2018
Tags: short story, illness, coma, sad, cute, romance