“I need to write,” Nick said to no one in particular as he paced around his living room, angered visiting hours ended so early.

Over the last month, sleep deprivation had taken its toll on Nick’s fragile state of mind. When he wasn’t panicking about Emily, he was bitter and hateful towards everyone and everything around him. He was worn out and stressed beyond belief. The world was his enemy and he had lost faith in almost everything he once believed in.

To counsel himself, he had begun writing whatever came to mind when he was feeling the most helpless. He never wrote anything in particular and usually never made sense out of anything he composed, but it helped him so he did it. Random lines of emotional disintegration filled his notebook, and each day Emily remained comatose, the more torment the pages would bare.

Nick found that writing down what he couldn’t say took pressure and stress off of his mind. The things he wanted to tell Emily dominated the paper in front of him, and the fear he often denied filled the lines in between. His notebook was the key to the secrets he held inside, and he intended to keep them secrets, even from Emily because he didn’t want her to see his moments of complete and absolute weakness.

As he paced around his living, Nick had trouble deciding what he wanted to write. Usually, he never had to determine what topic to focus on as he would write about what had been troubling him that particular day. But for some reason, the only thing on his mind was anger. He was angry that Emily was still in a coma. He was angry that he couldn’t talk to her. He was angry that he was too weak to handle his emotions most days. He was just so angry at everything, and once again, there was nothing he could do about it.

Frustrated, Nick sat down and wrote one line. He stopped immediately after, knowing something was different about the sentence he had just composed. Instinctively, he went to retrieve the nearest acoustic guitar he could find and began strumming a progression of chords that seemed to naturally find his fingers. It was not his intention, but now his purpose to write a song; a song for Emily. This was how he would explain to her what he was feeling inside. This was his way to confess himself to her without actually confessing. This was the answer.

For the next several minutes, Nick flipped back and fourth between writing and strumming. As he did so, he noticed the poem he had read to Emily weeks earlier was now making an appearance in his mind. As the words formulated, more ideas came to Nick’s mind until he finally had a finished song. He played it several times, working out the kinks and learning the chord progressions. After about an hour, he decided he was content with what he had created, and felt confident that Emily would like it.

That night, Nick collapsed on his bed, closed his eyes, and drifted asleep without any distractions. His conscience had been relieved for the first time in weeks, and he was now able to peacefully enter the next day, knowing he’d have something positive to bring to Emily.


As Nick entered the final hallway of his trek to Emily’s room, the nurses he had become familiar with were staring at him in the most unusual ways. He wasn’t surprised by their curiosity, but their reaction. The guitar case in Nick’s hand had drawn more attention than any gift he had given to Emily. However, the fact that he was a known musician confused Nick as the nurses looked on in complete shock. Why are they so surprised I would sing to her? The question circled through his head several times before he finally entered the room, avoiding anymore disheartening stares.

“Hi, Em. How’re you doing today,” Nick asked as he did every day, knowing he wouldn’t get a response. “I had a rough night last night, but it turned out ok. You may not believe it, but I actually slept,” he laughed at his own surprise. “It was unusually nice.”

Every time he looked up, a smile across his face, and received no reply, he found it harder to continuing talking to her. Still, he treated her as though she was completely aware. To do anything less would be insulting to Emily, and he had no intentions of cutting her down despite her disabled state.

For the next several hours, the nurses continued to file in and out of Emily’s room, practicing their now standard procedures. Nick participated in the casual small talk that normally arose, knowing it would make no difference in the outcome of the day. The nurses continuously asked what the purpose of the guitar was, the suspicion of it all surprising Nick each time.

“So what’s with the guitar,” Janet, the nurse Nick was most familiar with, asked.

“To play it?” Nick asked matter-of-factly.

“Well, I know that much, but are you planning on using it today?”

“Yes, I was.”

“I can see you’re going to be difficult so I’ll just cut to the chase: are you gonna be serenading your sleeping angel?”

“My sleeping angel?” Nick laughed to hide the fact that he enjoyed thinking of Emily in such a way. He didn’t want the nurses or anyone else to know though. He wanted his weakness to her kept a secret for as long as he possibly could.

“Yea, you know the girl that haunts your dreams every night? The one that you’ve devoted your life to, even though I’m not sure you’ve completely figured out why?”

“Wait, wait, wait! Hold on!” Nick was smiling at her accusations, wanting badly to deny them but unsure of how to do so. “What does this have to do with my guitar?”

“Well, if you let me in on your little show, I might be able to tell you. But since I’m guessing that whatever you sing to her will be kept private, I won’t be able to help you out. Unless, of course, you voluntarily tell me what you’re up to,” Janet was playfully getting under Nick’s skin, knowing she was tampering with unsafe grounds.

“You were right the first time; I’ll be keeping it private,” Nick smiled sarcastically, refusing to give Janet the satisfaction of being right.

“Suit yourself,” Janet headed for the door, but stopped just before exiting, “I hope you invite me the wedding.”

She left, and Nick was feeling agitated. No matter what he did, he always felt as though he was being scrutinized for not wanting to share how he felt about Emily. If only everyone could figure out that he wasn’t trying to hide it, he just wanted to tell the right person at the right time. Emily should be the first to know, and as far Nick was concerned, no one was worth taking that from her.

The day continued to drag on. Nick occupied his time with the same T.V. shows he watched every day. On schedule, Sam walked in.

“What are you watching now?”

He smiled, “Hey, Sam. I don’t even know. I was dozing off.”

“Didn’t sleep last night again?”

“Actually, I did.”

“Really? Did something happen?”

“‘Something’ like what?” Nick asked curiously.

“I don’t know. Did you take something?”

Nick chuckled, “No, but thanks for have such faith in me.”

“Nick… That’s not what I meant. I thought maybe you took a sleep aid or something. You know, like Tylenol P.M.”

“It’s ok, Sam. I know you were just screwing around. Actually, I wrote, and I just kept writing, and I ended up feeling so much better.”

“Just from writing,” Sam asked curiously.

“Well, what I wrote had something to do with it.”

“I figured that much,” Sam smiled then paused. She knew exactly what she wanted to say, she was just afraid to say it. She knew Nick’s buttons were already sensitive, but it just seemed like the next logical thing to say.

So, instinctively, Sam took a deep breath, and hoped for the best. “You’re really in love with her, aren’t you?”
Nick couldn’t escape the smile that captured his face, but he had no interest in having this conversation.

Without being rude, he casually and comically attempted to change the conversation.

“So, how ‘bout them Bucs?”

Sam laughed out loud, unable to control her amusement.

“Nick!” She continued to laugh. “Just answer!”

“Why do I have to answer? Why am I obligated to amuse the whole world with whatever I may or may not feel about anybody?” Nick was serious, though his manner of handling the situation was somewhat humorous. He wanted to know the answers, but he was close to laughing the whole time he asked the questions.

“Nick, why do you think people are amused by your feelings? I’m not amused. I just want to know.”

Nick looked at her as seriously as he possibly could, “Did you ever think that I have a reason for not wanting to talk about how I feel for Emily?”

“It crossed my mind. I just couldn’t think of anything.”

Nick smiled at Sam, knowing she was completely serious. He was somewhat humored but her inability to figure out the obvious, yet she had knowledge of everything else.

“If I tell you, will you stop prodding at me for answers?”

“Yes, and I’m sorry that I bothered you in the past.”

Nick laughed, “It’s not a big deal,” He assured her. “She should and will be first to know.”

“What?” Sam was confused by his seemingly random statement.

“Emily,” he said, confused by Sam’s confusion. “She should and will be the first to know.” Sam stared at him puzzled. Nick was baffled by her bewilderment. “…how I feel.”

“Oh my God! I’m so stupid.” Sam started laughing at her own ignorance. “I totally missed that.”

“I noticed,” Nick said sarcastically, but still amused. “So will you get off my back now?”

She rolled her eyes, “Yes, but I want to be second to know.”

“I’m sure Emily can arrange that.”

They kept laughing, and for the first time since Emily entered the hospital, both Nick and Sam felt an unusual feeling of content.


Sam stayed a little later that night, hoping that her and Nick could maintain the positive vibe they had inadvertently created. They were both so happy to not feel bad that neither wanted it to end. However, an hour before visiting hours ended, Sam left, leaving Nick the final hour to himself with Emily. While he was glad to finally have his alone time with her, he was also feeling somewhat sad to be alone again.

Quickly, Nick noticed that his time with Emily that night was running low. He quickly decided to present her with his heartfelt gift.

“I have something for you. You’ll probably like this more than anything I’ll ever give you.”

Nick grabbed his guitar and started strumming it, making sure the strings were properly tuned.

“I’d only do this for you,” he smiled and began to play.

The music filled the room, and the mood seemed to change. The peace that fulfilled Nick’s body was overwhelming but very welcome. As he looked at Emily, her body seemed more alive than ever. Smiling happily, he began to sing, and he didn’t stop smiling until he was through.


-song is currently being copyrighted. please check back later-

“I love you, Emily. I just wish you were awake to hear it.”