I Love Her
“I love her, Mom,” (March 24th, 2019.)
I want to call it an accident though it was an accident I had full control over. Too weak to endure the leather shredding my skin so I let go. “I love her mom,” my voice sounded unrecognizable though my previous actions felt even more estranged. “I f-feel it in my soul, my b-body, my everythin-” I wheezed, trying to find strength in my voice. Which is weakened as I coughed up a yell, “-Tell me she’s okay!” The lingering stares after my demand followed by pure silence broke me. I’m not in the right mindset for wonder, yet they refuse to give me security. Refuse to give me what I seek so I’ll take a chance, and seek it myself. Though as soon as I sat up large rough hands forcefully pushed me down against the hospital bed. In a poor attempt only my father could make to put the shaking panic throughout me to rest. The IV tugged my skin as I fought to lift up from his grip. Stitches stretching around my ribcage, and a vital monitor beeping so violently you’d think I’m going into cardiac arrest. Though I couldn’t bring myself to care. Raging pain throughout me, but a woman named Ivie was the only thing clear – “Mom, answer me,” I begged. I believed myself to be a strong man, but my words fell from my lips in a whimper of despair. I know she isn’t okay because I can no longer feel her flame. “Tommy, baby,” she said in an attempt to soften what comes next. “ ….she’s gone.” She did try her hardest to deliver those words as gently as she could. But to my ears she couldn’t have delivered it any harder.
Our Beginning (December 12th, 2013.)
I didn’t mean to fall in love with her, nor did I believe in love. I always thought it was a fool’s tale. Love in my eyes was a coverup towards heartache, and deception. Which I didn’t say for any reason because at the ripe age of 6 I found out my father is a cheater. Every Saturday he goes to the casino, and plays some cards. Though after he takes random women back to a local motel. My mother, despite being timid, isn’t stupid. She knows, but she’s too weak to leave him. Too foolishly in love with a black sheep who I claim to be my father. So I swore to myself I’d never be a prisoner to love. All until I met Ivie which it’s not like she purposely swept me from underneath my feet. Not like she made me believe true love can be real, and sweet. Nor did she come from perfect parents, no. Though Ivie has parents who didn’t cheat on each other, parents who didn’t get drunk, and parents who actually loved one another. To me she had it all, and I hated her for it. Envy was never one of my greatest traits, but it was bold whenever Ivie was around. December 12th, 2013 is when we first met. I don’t know why she was interested in me. It was eighth grade, and I was 14 going through puberty. I had pimples all over my pale skin, and eyebags from restless nights. Not to mention my blonde hair was unkept, I was all bones, plus a bully. Yet, despite all that she was desperate to be my friend. “Hey, Tommy!” I remember it just like it was yesterday. The way her voice took high pitch in excitement to seeing my ugly face. The way her cheeks turned rosy, and wrinkles curled around her eyes in result to smiling so heavily. I ended up telling her to go away, calling her names like fat, or stupid. But everyday she kept approaching me, and everyday I fell harder for her. Maybe she was an angel in disguise. Seen my broken heart that was crying for a healing, or maybe she’s just too damn persistent. Slowly before I knew it, she gently took my walls down that were surrounding me, and replaced them with her warm embrace.
Our first date (August 24th, 2016.)
I didn’t do dates. I used to tell Ivie that on multiple occasions, but she never listens to me. This was the beginning of 10th grade, and Ivie was all over me. Though I can’t say I wasn’t all over her; I was just more discrete about it. “I see the way you look at me Tommy. No boy looks like a girl like that, and
says she’s just a friend.” She was so soft spoken, yet so firm at the same time. I used to hate how she could just easily read my mind, but now I miss it – Her brown doe eyes looked up at me as if she was begging me to admit ‘we’re more than friends.’ Though I just couldn’t bring myself to do it. I’m not the one for her, and she should know that. I don’t think of myself as a good person, but Ivie always disagreed. “Dont you understand Ivie? I can’t,” I said in anger, and despair which was a disguise of my fear. “Why. Why not Tommy.” Her words weren’t even a question, yet a demand. A demand I refused to answer, but she kept pressuring me too. I didn’t mean to snap, but suddenly I felt an overwhelming tightness surrounding my throat. One I was too young to identify thoroughly, but now recognize it to be a panic attack – “BECAUSE I’LL HURT YOU! I’m my fathers son. I don’t deserve you. You’re too sweet, you’re too kind, too…” My voice trailed off as I muttered, “…you’re an angel Ivie, and I’m not a nice guy, I-..I’m broken.” I tried to be strong, but the more I talked the more my voice trembled. Then the water works started to come, so I decided it was best to not speak for a moment. “Ivie im-,” she didn’t even give me a chance to finish my sentence because she did it for me. “Your’re scared.” There was a moment of silence between us, my blue eyes looked into her brown ones. I took in a shaky breath as I finally confirmed, “I’m scared, Ivie.” I didn’t mean for our ‘hangout’ which I refused to call a date to transform into confession; but it did. Ivie soon cupped my cheek, her thumb gently brushed away my wet tears because she hates seeing me in pain; though I was full of it. A broken home, a distant father, an emotionally unstable mother, plus me – Eventually she warped her arms around me as she saw the tears wouldn’t stop falling. “I know Tommy,” she whispered ever so softly into my ear. Ivie was the only person who made me feel seen.
“I love her, Mom,” (March 24th, 2019.)
“Tommy, baby,” she said in an attempt to soften what comes next. “ … .she’s gone.” Silence filled the hospital room furthermore a silence filled my once pounding heart. My eyes looked up to my father who was still standing over me. Grip still tight as ever though loosen like he was making an attempt to soothe me. “G-Gone? What-,” I choked on my words. It felt as if someone was pouring cement down my lungs, but I tried to fight through it. “What-..what-.. do y-you mean..gone?” My mothers eyes filled with hesitation, and sorrow. Eyes that revealed nothing good were coming out from her lips. “She’s in critical condition Tommy,” She said before continuing, “but the doctors said she might as well be brain dead.” My body shattered, the beeping of the vital sound monitor increased louder than before. Tears started pouring down my cheeks without an ounce of permission; I’m having a panic attack, and Ivie isn’t here to put it into submission. “No…NO! she can’t be! I should’ve-this is my fault.” My mind felt like it was running a thousand miles per hour before I came to the acceptance that I- “I did this,” My voice now distant, and cold. “S-she put her trust in m-me like I put in hers, a-and I betrayed her.” Soon the emotions ran back as I started to ramble in utter pain. Not yet noticing the looks of concern, and heartache on my parents face. “I was supposed to protect her. I- it’s my fault. I told her i’ll keep her safe I-” My father me off, “Tommy, it’s not your fault, People drink at prom all the time, it’s a known thing, but you shouldn’t have been drivin-” I cut him off loudly as a protest to my innocence, “I wasn’t drinking!” I yelled, “I made sure I didn’t have a sip of alcohol. I’d never do anything to hurt Ivie! I’m not like you, I don’t purposely do things to sabotage, and hurt the ones I claim to love. I’M NOT LIKE YOU!” Sobs came after those words as I questioned my own morality. My eyes drifted to my mother who almost looked scared. “Mommy please…I need her..” My words in utter despair. It was blurry how I made it to Ivie’s hospital room. Sitting by her side in a wheelchair, and just staring at her. I took her hand gently as if she was glass. Shakily I brought it to my lips, and planted a soft kiss. She was all marked up, bandages around her, IVs connecting to her, and a trache tube that’s keeping my Ivie breathing. Despite her not being
awake, I spoke gently to her. “I need you to wake up…I need you. Please. You told me you want me to marry you under that willow tree. I need you up for that to happen baby. Baby? Ivie?” No response. My hand was shaking so much I had to let go of her because I was scared to bring her more pain. I know the crash wasn’t my fault, but the extent of her pain was in my hands. We’re both 18, supposed to graduate together, we have our whole life ahead of us. How can I be so stupid? – I’m not religious, but at this moment. “God, please bring her back to me. I can’t do this without her. She is..was? She’s my life. You sent this angel to me, so keep her with me.” I waited..I waited days by Ivie’s side, I refused to leave her, I refused to eat, refused to lay. If she doesn’t get to be comfortable then neither do I. Ivie (Months later)
I knew I needed to let go. The doctors, and her parents told me it’s time. Though I can’t, I remain by her side as I’ve been. Praying that God will give us more time, “You know I love you right? Despite this being my fault..I do love you.” I sighed,“ I should’ve.. swerved right.” My words are so soft, and quiet you’d think this is my goodbye. “I never meant for this to happen. Yes, I swerved left knowing the greater impact would be taken on your side. But-..I can’t control survival instincts baby…i-” I wished to continue, but I didn’t have enough strength within me. It’s been 5 months since the incident, and my baby still isn’t waking. As I was beginning to finally let go of her sweet hand I felt a tug. A type of tug that wasn’t from my doing, the type of tug which scared the hell out of me. I looked at Ivie’s hand, glaring at it to try, and see if I was really losing my mind. Yet I felt it again, It was faint, but it was there. My heart started pounding, the noise around me shifted to pure white noise. Then when I looked up from her hand to her eyes…my Ivie was staring right back at mine..
