Patrick
Being famous creates a lot of issues of its own. People are always in your business and you can only slip up once before someone is down your throat telling you that you're not good enough. That you're not as good as you think you are and you never will be. Almost anything I do is news worthy nowadays and it's almost never good news.
I try not to read what they say about me in the papers. They're not on my team or a part of my family so I shouldn't concern myself with their opinions. But they were right, since the accident I just haven't played the same. I haven't been the same and no matter what I do I can't shake this awful feeling I had.
We get home late from a game in Minnesota and I sit in my car for a little while trying to let off steam. The radio starts to talk about the Hawks game and how off I been and I quickly shut it off. I didn't want to hear it anymore, it's all I've been hearing for a while now and I'm over it. I'm trying so hard to be better and to know that your best isn't good enough, it sucks. I hate it. I don't know what else to do at this point, I'm out of options entirely.
Instead of driving home I go over to Chelsea's place and pray she was still up. I go up to her door and knock for a minute straight before she finally opens the door.
"Jesus Christ Patrick are you trying to get me kicked out" she asks me. She had nothing but a t-shirt on as her underwear peeks out of it.
I swallow hard as I try not to stare but it was hard not to. "This is a professional relationship Ms. Tyler you shouldn't answer the door half naked" I tease like she did all that time ago.
"Now I know there's something wrong, you just quoted me" she accuses.
"Can you talk" I ask.
"It's 3 am" she whines.
"Please" I beg. I stick out my bottom lip and I see her start to break.
She lets out a long sigh before moving to the side and welcoming me in. She grabs me some water and we sit on the couch. All I wanted to do was talk to someone and now the words weren't coming.
"What's going on" she wonders. She rests her hand on my leg which didn't help any, if anything it made it worse.
"My whole life I've been good at one thing and that's hockey. Never once did I doubt that I didn't belong in the NHL or a team like this.
But since the accident I just... I haven't been the same. I thought I had moved on from it, I thought that it was behind me. But when I'm out there sometimes I see you standing on that ice looking so scared as it breaks beneath you and all of the sudden I'm scared all over again" I explain.
"That stuff happens when you experience something traumatizing like that. Your mind can't forget those things no matter how hard you try. Thanks to you I went to therapy to try and get over the accident, but what have you done for yourself" she asks me.
"Nothing" I sigh.
"Now I'm no psychologist but you certainly seem to think I am" she jokes making me smile. "So if you want to talk about it I'm here for you" she insists.
"I feel like you shouldn't be the one who has to relive this just to make me feel better. You're finally getting past this and now you have to bring it up again because I can't get past it" I argue.
"It's a part of my life that will always be with me. There's no place I can go that those memories won't find me. It's okay to talk about it, I'm okay" she promises me.
"Well I'm not" I admit.
I feel the tears come up and no matter how hard I fight them they still come. I was no match for these feelings and memories I fight every day. They were bound to come out and they finally were.
She pulls my head into her lap as I start to cry. I think what made this so hard was that she was the one person I wanted the most when she was in a coma and I couldn't have her. And even though she woke up I still couldn't consul her, I couldn't just be happy that's she was here. I was so worried about moving forward that I didn't realize how much pain I was in in the moment. And now it's all I can feel.
"Do you know why I wanted this job with you" she asks me softly.
"I believe you called me a challenge" I remember as she laughs.
"You are that" she admits. "But that's not the only reason why.
It's because when I looked in your eyes I saw regret, I saw that the person you were wasn't who you wanted to be. And I could tell that you've reached out before and never got the help you needed so you never thought to change. Never tried to be better because people told you that what you were doing was okay. But I could see the questions written all over your face about what you were doing to yourself and why you did it.
I wanted to be the answer to some of your questions and I wanted to help you find the rest of them. Because I believe that if you can change one persons life, and they can change another person and those good deeds spread far then maybe, just maybe we could change the world" she explains.
I roll over so I was laying on my back looking up at her. Her hand softly rests on my face as I look into her eyes. "You're the only person who has looked at me not as who I am, but who I should be. You didn't let that facade I put on fool you, you knew from the start that I was dying inside and you cared enough to try and help me.
And I love that you always wanted better for me, even when I didn't deserve it. When no one else had faith in me you did. And you never lost it even after everything we have been through.
But what happens to you falls heavy in my heart. And never talking about what happened was eating me alive. Because I talked about life, just never about the accident because I didn't want to have to think about it. Then I couldn't get away from it" I sniffle.
"I'm here for you, you know that right" she asks.
I just smile up at her so she would smile back. "I know. I forget sometimes but I know" I assure her.
"I wish you wouldn't put the weight of the world on your shoulders. That's why it's so hard to breathe" she insists.
"I always have. My responsibilities as a player and as a human are plenty. And I take to heart everything I read and see. That's why reading this stuff about me hurts, because I'm saying the same things so then it much be true. But I don't want to be a bad player and a bad person. Without hockey I don't know who I am" I sigh.
"A wonderful man capable of doing things no one understands. But we're not quite there yet, still tuning some things and getting back on track. But once you find out who you want to be and what you want to mean to this life then there's not stopping you" she claims.
"And you'll be there too, right? Because I can't do this without you" I insist.
"I'm right here" she promises.