I felt like I was swimming in a thick water, unable to surface no matter how much I tried. Drifting in and out of consciousness as I paddled, my haze interrupted by vivid dreams and less tangible oddities from the world around my hospital bed.
There was my mother, standing in a field of tall grass, laughing and beckoning for me to come and play. At one point I felt the hospital bed beneath my still body and I could smell my sister's favourite chicken soup as if she was sitting beside me and waiting for me to eat it.
And there he was.
He wasn't with me in the water, but I could feel him near the edge of the water. He wanted me to come out, but I didn't know how to.
As I let myself drift in the current, I could smell his special scent and wished I could just follow it. I could hear his voice;
"Please come back to me"
The love I felt for him swelled in my heart, making me buoyant in the water as I tried to move closer to him, deliberately pushing at the thickness around me with tired and heavy limbs. The water slowly began to thin, becoming less fluid and feather-light, like a cool breeze.