• I sat up in my bed, just awaking from my dazed sleep. My head buzzed with many questions, as usual. Such as: What is love? Who do I love? Why is it so real? I layed back down and covered my head with the fluffy navy blue comforter, and reached for the extra pillows next to me, my hand was on something. But it wasn't a pillow, I knew what it was but I don't beleive I had ever touched one. It was a chest, a breathing human chest. A male human chest, I tryed to grasp a shirt, it was shirtless. I shot up, from the pillows I had layed on, still sitting on the bed. I didn't look over at him, but I moved my hand up, to his neck, then to his face. My eyes slowly looked over at his face. It was perfect! Perfectly squared chin, his nose was like a sculpture's, perfectly straight, cheekbones at the right height on his face, and eyes like liquid topaz. Wait, liquid topaz eyes! His eyes were open, he was staring half at my face, half at my hand that was over his eye, the way he looked at my face it was loving and compassionate, I'd never seen a look like that except in movies when people were in love. I jumped out of my bed, screaming. "Who are you? What are you doing in my room? In my bed?!" I yelled each question at him slurred and scared. "I am Derek. This is my room too. And my bed too. I live here. I am your husband. We got married just over a year ago." he stared at me with that loving look still in his eyes. "Don't you remember me?" Derek began crawling towards my motionless body, he was still on the bed of course. Good I was still in my normal pajama's, black tanktop and indigo pajama pants. "You really don't remember me. Do you?" I stared at him wide eyed my mouth was hanging open, I think I would remember my own husband. So this guy was just a stalker then, right? "No I don't remember you. Now get out of my room!" I was furious that there was some wierd stalker guy in my room, in my bed. I ran downstairs,"Mom! Mom! Mom, call the police! There's some weird guy in my room! Mom?! Mom where are you?!" I was screaming all this running down the stairs, and throughout the house. I began to cry as this realization hit. This wasn't my mom's house, it was mine, this was my house and, and. He was there holding me. "What happened? How long have I been asleep? Or do I have amnesia?" I thought I was thinking all these things, but it came out of my mouth, loudly and clearly. "Shh. It's okay." he was comforting me, how sweet. "It's okay. I called your mom before I came home. She said to be careful, because you got amnesia right after I left. You fell down three flights of stairs and were in a coma for three months. You've finally come back here after a few months of going to the doctor for therepy to help you get over your amnesia." I was bawling as this realization hit. I couldn't stand, I wasn't standing. One of his handswas cradelling my head to his chest, and his arm was around my waist holding me close to him. "It's okay. Please don't cry." He breathed onto my tousled raven black hair, long flowing and in a messy ponytail from my dazed slumber. Soon he was cradelling all of me to his chest he was, holding me. I had soon cried myself out and fallen asleep, again, in his arms. He carried me upstairs, layed me in my bed and covered my motionless body, still sniffling, with the navy blue comforter.