I Never Thought That Getting Hit by a Car Would Be the Best Thing That Ever Happened to Me
I was always in a rush. Rushing to work, rushing home, rushing through life without really living it. My job as an accountant kept me buried in spreadsheets, and my social life had dwindled to brief texts with old friends I never saw. Every day felt like a repeat of the last. That is, until the day everything changed.
It was a rainy Monday morning. I was running late—again—sprinting across the street with my coffee in one hand and my phone in the other. I barely noticed the car until it was too late.
The impact wasn’t as dramatic as in the movies—no slow-motion flying through the air, no cinematic music. Just a sharp jolt, my body hitting the pavement, and the distant sound of brakes screeching.
The world spun. Voices murmured. A stranger held my hand and said, “Stay with me.” I wanted to tell them I was fine, that I had an important meeting, but the pain in my leg said otherwise.
I woke up in the hospital, my leg in a cast and my phone blinking with missed calls from my boss. Panic set in—how could I miss work? Who would handle the clients? But then a nurse walked in, a woman with kind eyes and a voice like warm tea. “You’re lucky,” she said. “That car could have done much worse.”
Lucky? The word felt absurd. But over the next few days, something strange happened. My usual anxiety faded. I had nothing to rush for. No deadlines, no calls, no endless emails. Just silence.
My parents visited. I hadn’t seen them in months. They sat by my bed, holding my hand, reminiscing about childhood stories I had long forgotten. My best friend, whom I had been ‘too busy’ to see, brought me my favorite books and snacks. Even my boss, normally a relentless taskmaster, sent a message saying, “Take your time. We’ll manage.”
And then there was Liam.
Liam was the man who hit me with his car. He showed up at the hospital every day, apologizing profusely. He was a chef, running late for his shift, just like I had been. We talked for hours—about work, life, regrets. He had once dreamed of opening his own restaurant but had gotten stuck in the corporate grind, just like me.
As I healed, I realized something: this accident wasn’t just a setback. It was a wake-up call. I had been so consumed by routine that I had forgotten how to live.
When I was finally discharged, Liam offered to take me out for dinner—”as a proper apology,” he said. That dinner turned into many more. And somewhere along the way, I stopped seeing the accident as a tragedy and started seeing it as fate.
Getting hit by a car had forced me to slow down, to reconnect, to fall in love. It was the best thing that ever happened to me.
