When Love Comes but Time Is Not Enough (part 1)

A fragment from the diary of a terminally ill man.

Monday

When I learned I had one week to live, I didn’t cry, I wasn’t even shocked. It was as if something was telling me that God was finally going to punish me. I took more from life than I was entitled to, and I was not a good person. I was overindulged from a young age and without thinking I indulged in all the bad habits — cigarettes, alcohol, drugs, short-term relationships with easy women, obsession with greatness, selfishness, greed… Nothing was ever enough for me. And after this lavish life, perhaps it would be fairest for me to leave this world before I was 33.

Actually, my birthday is next week, but I don’t know if I’ll live to see the age of Christ. Maybe that’s a sign that I don’t deserve God’s love… But even if I die before I turn 33, I want to at least fulfill a dream of mine that I haven’t found time for — to write a book. I know it’s impossible in a week, but it would certainly be the most meaningful thing I’ve done in my life so far.

People never got to know the other me — the better me. Maybe it’s because I didn’t let them either for fear of hurting me. But it’s different now, and since I’m convinced that no one will be interested in the writings of a terminally ill man, I’ll take the liberty of reflecting on life and death, on the love I never met…

The concept of time is a rather stretchy concept. For some people, it is never enough, and for others, it passes too slowly. For me, time doesn’t matter, especially now that I only have a week to live. But why do I say only one week? Is that not enough; am I still going to be dissatisfied even now, confined to my hospital bed? I am not surprised with myself. In 32 years I have not changed for the better, why should I now?

On the next bed to me lies an 85-year-old man who, like me, awaits death. On that measure he and I are alike, but I don’t believe we have any other traits in common. As I look at him, the words “long life” pop into my mind. This old man cannot complain. 85 years is a long time… To me, a long life looks different. Right now I must be happy because I have a whole week to live, while others have only a few days or hours.

In that respect, those people must envy me, but I’m not the one who makes the rules. It would be much better for me not to know how much life I have left — that way I could live in my own way — without giving things much thought. Apparently, though, God has decided to get me on the right track this one week; He doesn’t give up easily… And maybe I’m starting to change now that I’m trying to write a book. Who knows?

Tuesday

Today I woke up in an incredibly good mood. The sun showed behind the white hospital blinds and lit up my face in a way that reminded me of my last holiday at the seaside. I will miss the sea and the sun… They gave me purpose, they energized me. But why am I talking in the past tense? More and more, I’m beginning to resemble the old man next door who tells me about his life all day long. Here he is now showing me his toothless smile again. I wonder how he can be so happy right now, isn’t he scared? Doesn’t he want to live more? Apparently not, and it’s hard to enjoy life without teeth anyway.

I don’t smile like him and I’m not happy. I don’t know if I ever was. Clearly, this guy is happy with what he has accomplished. His children and grandchildren come to see how he is, and they hug him. Nobody comes to me, and there is nobody. I have no real friends. My parents, disappointed in me, died long ago. I don’t talk to my brother and I don’t know where he is, and as for my wife, I have two, but exes. About children — there is nothing to comment on. I have always been so self-absorbed that I did not decide on this step. It scares me to think that it is possible to love someone more than myself.

Wednesday

Today is a big day. A new nurse will come to take care of me. I’m looking forward to it because the current one is anything but the sister I want to see in the last days of my life. I wonder why they sent her to this ward — death is scary enough as it is. Every time she injects me with God knows what drugs, I feel like she’s sticking a knife in me or injecting me with some kind of tranquilizer to get rid of me faster. Hopefully, the new nurse is better so my stay here is a little more pleasant.

I won’t hide the fact that I am a connoisseur of female beauty. Too bad I never met the right woman to change me. Perhaps I would have made a good husband and father… But there is no room for regrets. I chose for myself what my life was to be, and it was anything but full of love; the kind of love everyone talks about that made time stand still. That’s the kind of love I need right now — to stop time and give me more life. Lucky are those who have been loved, and even luckier are the people who are able to love another person, if not more than themselves, at least as much as themselves.

I woke up from my afternoon nap because of a sonorous female whisper. Until now, I didn’t think it was possible to have a voice as gentle as the one I heard. It was the new nurse’s. Even though I was sleepy, I ran a hand through my hair out of habit, something I did whenever I wanted to impress a woman. The nurse walked over to my bed and smiled. I said to myself, “If there are women like this in Heaven, I’m ready to go!” She was indeed unearthly beautiful — with sparkling and vibrant blue eyes and long black hair that fell freely in playful curls over her shoulders. The differences between her and the previous sister were obvious, and for the first time, I thanked God for the happiness He had bestowed upon me. It seems He had decided to make me happy at death’s door after all.

The first moment I caught a glimpse of this divine woman, I couldn’t say anything, I couldn’t even smile — I was so delighted. The next moment I felt uneasy with the situation I was in — I was lying on the opposite hospital bed and was wearing a hideous white nightgown that was an affront to my manhood. If I looked the way I wanted, I’m sure this woman would have fallen in love with me, but since that was impossible, I decided to strut in bed and put the only weapon I had left into action — the sexy look. She helped me sit up and laughed lightly, a fact that rather offended me as I was used to more favorable reactions. I asked her, “Why are you laughing?” and she replied, “You look at me like you’re in a disco and you’re on the hunt for women.” I scowled — my intentions had been revealed too soon. Okay, apparently this woman is smart and my numbers won’t impress her, so it’s preferable to be myself.

I didn’t regret the choice I made. Being a natural is much easier than stepping into different roles. At least in the last days of my life, I can afford the luxury of being myself. I learned that the beautiful sister is named Faith. What an irony of fate — her name is Faith, and I’m someone who doesn’t believe in God at all. But that’s why I believe that beauty will save the world, and if all women were half as lovely as this creature, every dying man like me would go away with a smile on his face.

We spent the whole evening talking. I noticed that even the 85-year-old man became animated and never missed an opportunity to show his toothless smile to Faith, who in turn looked at him with such a flattering calmness that I even became jealous. When will God finally bring this old man home so that I can enjoy this beautiful angel in peace?

Time passed imperceptibly and Faith had to leave and I had to fall asleep alone in the cold hospital room. Well, I wasn’t quite alone — the old man snored quite loudly at night, but he wasn’t one of the people I wanted to be with. Faith was gone and I was alone with my thoughts again, but she continued to fill my mind — her fluid movements, the diligence with which she performed all the procedures, and her eyes — eyes that made me forget death was coming. They were the most alive eyes I had ever seen.

To be continued…

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