The next few moments were some of the most painful I had ever been through. I won't say they were the most painful because that would be a lie, but seeing someone you love look you into your eyes with the look of pure and absolute sadness and deceit...well it felt like nothing short of being stabbed into the chest over and over again with the knife of betrayal.
Pam called the hospital immediately after I sent the text. They sent some staff over to come safely collect Dane and bring him back there. It was no easy task. As soon as they got there he went into a panic mode.
He refused to go with them, insinuating they were with the police. He swung on a few of the guys, and actually connected with one of them, probably breaking his nose by the looks of it, before they tackled him to the ground. They injected him with something to get him to calm down as I sat there, in a pile of misery on the floor, with my hands over my mouth, crying out as I watched him, muffling the pain.
It didn't help that he kept yelling out for me to help him, asking me repeatedly why I'd done it, why I'd let them get him. His eyes looked at me as if I'd taken away his last chance for hope. I'd abandoned him when he needed me the most in his mind. It hurt. It fucking hurt. Like shards of glass tearing my heart into tiny strips of nothing.
Pam tried to calm me, holding me as I crumpled into the floor. And even throughout my own trauma of the event, I could see how pained she was at witnessing her baby boy being man-handled in front of her. As a mother it must be hard to not turn into a ferocious mama bear and protect the way you instinctively need to. However, she knew what needed to be done. She had to let go in order for them to safely do their job. This was what he needed. She'd seen it before, maybe not to this extent, but similar situations nonetheless.
"You did the right thing, honey," she says, holding me close to her chest in the aftermath of the event.
I watch them take his sedated form away into the vehicle behind her. Needles scoured my throat as I continued crying for him.
"Then why does it hurt so bad?" I fall apart again, clutching her shirt in my fists.
"I know, Dakota, I know it hurts, but he's sick. He needs professional help. You did the right thing by letting me know and I'm glad you were there with him before he could hurt himself or someone else."
I sigh through the puddle of tears, attempting to get the words out. "It just feels so wrong, I feel like I betrayed him."
"I understand completely," she says, still holding me. "Trust me, it's not easy."
Getting to the hospital, I'd learned Dane was still sleeping from whatever they gave him, resting until he could get back on his medicine and hopefully back to reality. Pam and I went into an office to meet with Dr. Tom, who made an emergency trip to check on Dane's condition when he was alerted to what had happened.
"I'm so sorry this happened," Dr. Tom says in all sincerity. Pam and I sit across the desk from him, reigning in our emotions to listen to what he has to say.
"I thought it was a little strange that he hadn't had any type of reaction to the new medication. Wishful thinking maybe. I guess I was just hopeful that we'd finally found the one," he says, looking sadly off into the distance behind us.
"Actually, he did have a reaction." I admit reluctantly.I pinched the bridge of my nose, hoping the applied pressure would make the pain of my headache go away.
I didn't want to have to do this and I hate being in this position, but the truths need to resurface so we can appropriately help him.
"What? Dakota, you need to tell me what happened," Dr. Tom says calmly as Pam looks over at me in surprise.
"He had a seizure at his place soon after he came home from the hospital. I wanted to bring him in but he made me promise not to." I cry into my hands as Pam rubs my back. "Then, he started to seem so much better, he was feeling good again, so I thought everything was going to be alright..."
"Oh dear," she sighs, pure heartbreak in her tone.
"He must've taken himself off shortly after that," Dr. Tom comments while writing something down in his chart.
With a deep sigh, he sits back in his deep leather seat, looking over the paperwork and books littering his oversized mahogany desk, the pictures of him smiling with his family on the shelf behind him.
I wonder about his family. Has he ever been through something like this before? Are his kids mentally stable? Everyone in the picture appears to be happy and healthy. How unfair this illness is. Why Dane? Why him? Why must his mind be plagued with a disease that takes the part of him I love the most. I'm bitter, I'm angry, I'm heartbroken. I hate the world today.
"Unfortunately, we've exhausted all of our options. He needs to be on one of the medications even with the risk of the side effects. We can add in other antidepressants, other anticonvulsants to help combat them, but it's all we have at this point," he says, seemingly frustrated.He's upset with himself as if he, alone, should be able to find the answer to all of our problems. It's apparent, this isn't easy for anyone.
Thinking of Dane being totally drugged up on a cocktail of medications was one thing I knew he wasn't going to sit around for. He wasn't going to go for that. He was too stubborn, too strong-willed, too determined to succumb to lifestyle.
He wouldn't allow a mess of meds to stain his mind, turn him into a blob of emotionless, thoughtless skin and bone breathing through each repetitive day, checking off the days on the calendar until the monotonous existence came to a halt.
That wasn't living to him and that thought alone brought a new terror into my life.
Life went on as it always does, Christmas came and went without any real thought to it at all. I always loved Christmas as a kid, listening to the music weeks in advance, decorating the house, putting up a real tree with my family, and of course, my mother baking an endless supply of cookies, pies and pastries.
The excitement of that era of my life was now dulled. It didn't hold the same joy as it had before. Things were just different, and the childhood joy I once knew was muted by the unfortunate realities of adulthood. Dane was staying at home again to adjust to his cocktail of medications while I went to school, completed my studies and then stayed with him at night. He needed someone with him to ensure he didn't have a reaction, and Pam was still working nights so my parents allowed me to crash there as long as I slept on the cot next to the bed. Yeah, sure.
The days are long and the nights are longer. My anxiety lately is through the roof, but no one has any idea on the outside. Fake it till you make it, right? Every night I watch him and I wait, every little movement and I am sure he is starting to convulse. Dane doesn't seem aware of my anxiousness as I try my best to be positive and strong for him by laughing and keeping our conversations focused on light and humorous topics.
I'll do anything for him. He is my greatest love and I know to my core that without question, he'd do the same for me.
His body is weak again. The medicine is causing him to not want to eat much of anything and standing for long periods of time causes him to get nauseous and dizzy. More medicine is added to help with that, making it appear as if he's downing a bag of skittles every twelve hours with the amount of pills he's taking. It's disheartening to say the least.
"You coming in?" he asks with a little smirk, removing his shirt with one hand.
I study his body, feeling my face flush at the deep cuts in his abdomen that guide down beneath his sweats.
"Dane, you serious?" I asked with a questionable look.
"Of course Kodi. If I'm going to have a babysitter twenty-four seven I at least better be able to have fun with her," he jokes, raising his eyebrows suggestively. "Now c'mon, get naked."
"Dane..." I whisper under my breath as he comes closer.
He stands in front of me, slowly grabbing the hem of my sweatshirt, pulling it up gently as I raise my arms with a reluctant look, while he removes it over my head. Throwing the sweatshirt to the side, his eyes hold mine for a moment before he cups the sides of my face. He leans forward and I brace for his kiss when he turns his head to the side, finding my ear.
"Kodi, I see you. I know this is too much for you to handle. Let's live a little while we can, love a lot while we're here," he whispers in a serious tone.
He leans back, his hands both still on the sides of my face before softly kissing my lips, then my cheek, then my neck.
"Mmm," I moan at the sensation of his soft lips upon my skin.
"I need to take in all of you while I still can," he whispers as his lips trail the curve of my shoulder.
Pulling him back, I hold his face in my hands as we look deep into each other, absorbing all I can before pressing my lips against his. Kissing him passionately, I completely surrender to him all of whatever I'm made of.
We undress and get into the warm embrace of the shower. We slowly wash each other of all of our worries, our anxieties, our stressors, until it's just us again. We hold each other, study each other's bodies as if the test determining the end of the world is tomorrow. We make love, and then we do it again.
We find each other, our deepest connection, always there.
"Alright, which man movie do you wanna watch tonight, The Notebook, or The Best of Me?" I ask sarcastically as we settle into the bed.
Our backs rest against the backboard as we snuggle under the comforter.
"C'mon I said man movie," he whines.
"Ok...P.S. I Love You, it is." I smile while selecting it.
"Perf." He grins, leaning back, crossing his arms behind his head.
I love his secret love for chick flicks almost more than I love the movies themselves. I have an obsession with watching him take it all in. He's so receptive to the emotional aspect of it all. His emotional depth, greater than any guy I've ever known. My strong, intelligent, inquisitive man with a soft heart and warm soul.
As we lay here, wrapped up in each other, half-way through the movie, I can't help but notice the tears swelling in his eyes. He attempts to swallow them back but I've already caught on. I look up at him, kissing his cheek capturing a tear while he pulls me tightly into his chest. His heart is racing, a fast pounding beat through my head.
Yes, this was an awfully sad movie, but I can't help but realize his emotional response wasn't from the sadness of their story.
It was for ours.