Open When...(Paul Walker Fanfiction)

Letter #10: Open When...I'm Mad At You

Song: Somewhere With You by Kenny Chesney {But in my heart / I'm always somewhere with you}
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December 31st, 2013 (12 weeks, 1 day)

Meadow and I walk back into Paul's hospital room, returning from lunch in the cafeteria. She has me laughing at the story of her and Brian's last date. However, once we are back into Paul's room, my laughter subsides. Paul is sitting in his bed, staring at the untouched tray of food in front of him. This is one of the things the doctor told me to look for, the first sign that Paul may be falling into depression. It's weird because my husband is usually the one so full of energy, which is the total opposite of what is going on in front of me.

Despite the fact that he isn't looking and acting like himself, this is something I was told is completely normal. The doctor said that coma patients usually become depressed, with the reason why they fell into a coma being the aggravator of the depression. Come to think of it, this actually isn't the first sign. A couple of nights ago, I held Paul in my arms as he cried about feeling guilty for Roger's death. I had never seen him so torn in my life, and honestly, it scared me, just like I am now.

I glance at Meadow, and she's looking at me too. We're both unsure of how to approach this situation, because neither of us have really dealt with him being like this before. Slowly, I make my way over to the bed. He realizes our presence when I touch his shoulder. His eyes look up from his tray to the both of us, but there is no smile nor does his eyes light up like they usually do. It's almost like I'm staring at a shell of a person my heart belongs to, but the loving spirit is nowhere to be found.

"Dad? Are you okay?" Meadow asks, her voice shaking a little.

My hand moves to the upper part of his back, and I rub small circles into him, trying to comfort him in the best way that I can. "Meadow, can you step out for a minute? I would like to talk to him alone." She nods, her eyes not leaving her father as she walks out of the room. Once the door is closed, I turn back to him. "Baby, I know you're hurting inside, but I promise it's all going to be okay. You're not alone, not even for one minute. I'm always here, so is Meadow and all of the people you love. We're all supporting you every step of the way. I'm not going to let the darkness inside of you dampen the bright and loving spirit that I fell so deeply in love with."

For the next minute, I stay locked on his eyes, trying to see any sort of response. Just when I think that I'm not going to see anything, I sense the tiniest flicker of emotion in his deep ocean blues. It makes my heart so happy, and I can't keep from smiling. The corners of his lips start to pull up, and I could almost cry from seeing him smile. His arms wrap around my waist, pulling me closer to him. "I'm sorry," he mumbles into my neck. "I don't know what is wrong with me."

This man has the power to fill my heart with so much love that it's overwhelming, but he also has the power to break it too. "Oh Paul, there is nothing wrong with you. It's okay to feel like this, but you don't need to feel like you're alone. I'm always here for you, and you're never going to get rid of me." I can feel his chest shake with laughter. When I pull back, there are tears running down his face. "Please don't cry," I whisper, wiping all of his tears away gently.

He nods and looks toward the door, and I turn around to see Meadow standing there wiping tears away too. Paul surprise me by saying, "Come here baby girl, we can't be crying anymore tears now." Of course, she walks over and sits on the opposite side of the bed of me. They embrace in a hug. Although it warms my heart to see that, I can't help but still feel worried about him. He doesn't need to put all of his emotions behind a mask so no one else can see it. I know my husband better than that, so I will have to watch him and make sure his darkness doesn't take him away from me.

A knock on the door ruins our little lovefest that we have going on. We all turn to look toward the door, and in walks the ICU doctor on duty, the same one that talked to me the first day of Paul's hospital stay. Dr. Geralds walks over to the bed and shakes our hands. He's smiling, so that could only mean good news. "How are you feeling today?" He asks Paul.