Letters of Unconciousness

1.00pm

~ Nate ~

The final page had tears and I am adding to them. I could tell that they were hers because she avoided writing over them. The drops spacing the words out larger than they needed to be and my tears fell over her words. Smudging the black ink slightly. I quickly found myself wiping away the tears avoiding crying any longer. I feel so guilty. Never before have I ever experienced the feeling of so much guilt. In these two weeks I have behaved so ill toward her and so selfish myself. Within the time she has written that letter on Christmas Eve and the time I read it so much had happened. I only wished she could have given it to me sooner.

Although I knew she wouldn't, even if I begged and pleaded. She couldn't stand me knowing what she wrote with time still leading to the surgery. This is her way of reaching out to me when she has no way to do it. Words wouldn't come out of her mouth instead they came out on paper. Like she had said in the letter these were a way to communicate with her even though she couldn't say it to me herself or answer my questions if I have any. I'd spent so many hours, both days and nights with her yet I have never seen a single one of these diaries. And until she gave me these letters this morning I had no idea she spent her time writing. I've always known she liked it but I have never considered the thought of her passing the time with it.

Now I find myself wondering about what she has written in her diary. Mostly I want to know what she has written about me. About us. I also am longing to know all the things she hasn't told me. I know so much and she says I know more than anyone else but there are things I know she is keeping from me. I know there are things even I don't know both past and present. These letters are just a realisation of that. The little details she chooses to leave out. They aren't secrets, just details.

Even as I think of all the things this letter brings to mind. The pit of my stomach forever remains full of regret and guilt. I'd been irrational and genuinely selfish. If I had of known then what I just read I wouldn't have jumped into my accusations or my remarks. I would have thought everything I said through instead of blurting it out. I would have so much so differently. If only I had of known. But I didn't and now I was guilty, and regretful.

I'd reacted as bad as her mother. I didn't know any of that, she hadn't told me the figures or the reaction her parents had made or anything. I remember as clear as day what she told me,
"The operation is basically going to fix me, do nothing or it could possibly shorten my time." She had said it so openly but immediately my heart drop as it realised what she had just said.
"What do you mean by shorten your time?"
"There is a possibility that I might not wake up at all and that I'm pretty much playing a card game where the odds aren't even."

That's when I began to flip out,
"What side are they leaning towards?" My tone was harsh compared to her innocent voice. Her pleading innocent voice.
"Nate please-"
"Gabriella, what side?"
"Death." She whispered so quietly so that she could refuse to repeat it if I asked but I heard her. And I snapped.

"You mean to tell me you are voluntarily risking your life with an operation that isn't quite necessary just to see if you can get fixed when the odds on that are low enough. You're kidding me right?" She stared at me so blankly. She wasn't going to cry and I couldn't tell if she was going to hit me. She sat there.
"Anything else?" She was so blunt, unimpressed and somewhat disappointed but I knew she wouldn't say anything else until I said what was on my mind. She was just that stubborn.

"Gabby you know I love you and I say all this because I do. I couldn't sleep or live with myself, knowing your about to risk your life so crazily with this surgery. Then when you're in your state of unconsciousness what am I suppose to do? How am I suppose to live with myself knowing I let you do this? Knowing I let you agree to this. How can you expect me to live with that? How am I suppose to be able to support you in this decision? A decision you made without me. But don't you think this is selfish I mean you're willing to take the chances without thinking about how the outcome might affect the people around you. What if you don't wake up or it doesn't work? What am I suppose to do then? Say oh well at least she tried. I don't want to have to say that or think that. What are those of us who lose you left with? A funeral to plan and for some people to pay for. Your treatment doesn't cost your family anything. What's wrong with fighting it the way you are now? What's wrong with keeping up the routine you've made or that you know so well? You haven't had that significant of a down fall. You're still fighting fit and surviving. All these doctors are on high alert so if you faulter or your body gives way we won't lose you. We care so much about you and that's why we dedicate our time to helping you or keeping you company because we don't know how much longer we have. Or does that mean nothing to you?"