Hey. Name's Darren. And not to be clichéd, though I suppose I am one big cliché…this is my story. And as stories go, it will end, justly or no. Everything eventually does, in death or…well, in love.

You see, I'm suffering from what they call vasogenic cerebral oedema. I'm not sure what it means, but it doesn't really matter since I'm not conscious to deal with it. I'm in a coma. It feels strange to admit it, since I'm completely coherent in thought and mind, but there it is.

I've had lots of time to think in this mental cage I'm in, lots of time. And isn't it the biggest cliché of all to experience flashes of your life and your memories while you're on your deathbed. The only saving grace is that I've had sufficient time to realize that, despite my many triumphs and accomplishments, when it came to the most important thing in my life, the biggest test…I failed. I failed and robbed myself of happiness, and not only that, I hurt someone who I alleged to love with all my being.

The reason I'm telling you all this is because someone should know the truth. Even if it's not who I want it to be.

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