Letters of Unconciousness

10.00am

~ Nate ~

Gabriella.

I missed her too. Over 71 hours since I had spoken to her. I was scared. So Scared.

I was standing looking into the ICU trying to see her face among al the doctors. They were assessing everything just as she said they were. I put my hands on the glass. The cold glass against my fingers as the letter sat on the floor at my feet. I'd barely made it through the first page before I swarmed to the glass. I was looking at her trying to find her. The crowd of doctors were checking everything she said and so much more or at least that'swhat it looked like. So much seemed to be happening so much more than I understood. Every so often words would be yelled to the person holding the clipboard. They would quickly write it all down.

I stopped staring into the window and picked up the letter. I sat on the floor leaning against the glass I read on. Not stopping for a single moment more.

One hour.

One hour.

One singular hour.

A single hour.

Just one.

And that's when she wiil be taken off life support.
That's when I could lose her. Right now I can' visit her.

I'd made the biggest mistake not coming in when we woke up. I wouldn't get to see her. I should have come in earlier. I should have and now I'm kicking myself because I didn't. The letter was breaking my heart. She was so strong and so sure of ehr decision. She took it in her stride and I know she had thought the whole thing through.

She thought about the people around her and their suffering before her own. She tried so hard to convey to me that it was not suicide. I could tell that was what she was worried about. She was worried that if she passed I would never forgive myself because it was suicide. but I know now that it isn't She fought long, hard and with courage but not every fight can be won. She took the battle in her hands but in the end the outcome wasn't hers to make.

She has come to terms with the idea that it was going to come to this sooner or later. She knows that and she is okay with that. Life or death she is fine. Somehow she is so strong that it barely seems to faze her in her letters. How is she so strong. How was she so strong. Tears fell from my eyes throughout the entire letter. it was so hard not to cry. the people around me didn't know what was going on and didn't pry for information or even look my way. We were all feeling alone. I was feeling so alone.

The girl I loved was okay with dying but I was not okay with losing her. I was not okay. I am not okay. I cannot deal with this. I cannot let her go. I will not let her go. I hit the floor beside me many times. She was okay with dying and she was okay with leaving. I am not. She can tell me all she likes about it being pleasant and about it being full of nurturing feelings but its not fair. She ca't die and she can't leave me not today. Not until 70 or 80 years have passed.

Somehow she sounded so smart and so content throughout the whole letter and here I was crying. Here I was the opposite of smart and content. I was unsettled and hurting. She was so smart about what she thought the 'light' was. She made it sound nice. But even still I didn't want it for her. her previous letters had her hopes for me and I have my hopes for her. That was not it. This is not it. She needs to recover she must recover!

I wish I could say she will recover but even now I don't believe it. It sounds so impossible. So impossible. So heart breaking.

She says over the 16 months she was terrified of death but now she isn't. But I always was and always will be until the day it happens I will dread it. When and if it happens I won't believe it because she is too amazing. She is way too , no it just can't happen not to her not to anyway. Not this way. Not like this. No.