Awakening

Me – I don’t want to call Danny. Danny isn’t who I want with me, u r.

Skylar – Good night Mira.

Me – Sky, please. I love you.

I end up crying myself to sleep because a response never comes in from Skylar. He never acknowledges my plea or declaration of love. I wake up the next morning, hoping that all of yesterday had been a dream. I realize that it was, in fact, not a dream; it’s my stone cold reality. My heart still wants a man who might not love me the way I love him.

Putting my big girl panties on, I decide to face the day head on, and start working toward the new and improved Mira. Danny arrives just in time to meet my physical therapist, Heather. Listening to the PT tell me all of the things I need to work on and exercises I need to do, leaves me reeling. If I can’t even sit up, how the hell am I going to walk again?

“Okay, Mira. You need to work on lifting your legs. Come on, lift,” Heather urges.

“I can’t f**king do it!” I scream.

“Come on, Pea, you have to at least try,” Danny begs.

“I am f**king trying. It’s not working. It’s like my legs weigh a hundred pounds.” Exasperation doesn’t even begin to describe my feelings at this point. My fists are tightly balled at my sides, ready to swing on the next person who makes me feel like an invalid. And that’s exactly how I feel.

“Here, try this. I’ll lift your leg, you hold it up. Don’t let your leg touch the bed, Mira,” Heather tells me, grabbing onto my right leg and lifting it about six inches off the bed. When my leg is in the air, she slowly lets go, and takes a step backward. I hold my leg in the air, on my own, for about fifteen seconds before it falls back to the bed.

“Did you see that? I held it up. I did it!” I feel so empowered, like I can take on the world with this one small accomplishment.

“I knew you could, Pea,” Danny says, placing a kiss on my head.

Heather moves onto my left leg, repeating the process and I am able to hold it in the air for a little longer than my right one. We continue this for about an hour, until I can hold both legs up for about thirty seconds each. Feeling a sense of accomplishment, I do a sitting happy dance, waiving my arms in the air. Danny’s laugh brings me down from my high. I really wish Skylar was here during this milestone of my recovery.

By the end of the week, I can stand on my own and take a few steps without assistance. Heather is going to get me a walker to practice with while I’m in the hospital. My doctor has decided to keep me an additional week. I’m not too happy about living here another day, let alone another week, but it’s better than leaving to go home with Danny.

I haven’t heard from Skylar since my first night in the hospital. No calls, texts or visits, even though he promised to visit the next night after work. Either he’s really busy or he’s avoiding me. I’m smart enough to place money on the latter.

Walking down the hallway of the hospital, with the walker that Heather has commissioned for me, I am debating my appointment with the therapist. I know I need to work through my emotions, I just wish I could do it with someone I know. With my appointment being only twenty minutes away, it’s too late to cancel.

I told my doctor that I want to have the session in the therapist’s office instead of my hospital room. Against her better judgment, she gave me permission. I continue my slow pace until I reach the room marked Dr. Shawn Payne, Mental Health. Fuck, he sounds like a pain in my ass already.

I knock softly when a kind looking man opens the door. Wearing a pair of loose-fitting blue jeans and a solid black tee shirt, he’s not what I expected.

“Come on in,” he says, pointing to the couch in the corner of the room. Really? Lie on the couch and spill my guts? Holy cliché, Batman.

I slowly walk over to the couch, bracing myself on my walker to carefully sit on the couch. I lean back into the cool leather, letting my aching muscles take a much needed break. This office might only be 100 feet from my room, but it feels like I just ran five miles. Taking time to catch my breath, I watch the man walk over and sit in a rolling office chair at the head of the couch. He better not expect me to lie down and open my soul to him like we’re old friends.

“Mira, I’m Shawn. I’ll be working with you during your mental recovery. If there are any questions you have before we get started, now is the time to address them. I really do like to have uninterrupted sessions without breaks for general questions.”

Well, what a dick. “I don’t have any questions. Personally, I would like to get this started. The sooner we start, the sooner it’s finished. I only have a few things I want to discuss anyway.”

“Alright, let’s get started,” Shawn says as he pulls a notepad into his lap and begins writing.

I have watched this in movies and it always pisses me off. What the f**k is he going to write in that little notepad of his? Why is he keeping notes on my memories? Is he a f**king moron and can’t remember what we talk about? Shit, now I’m just looking for a reason to back out.

Taking a deep breath, I start with why I chose to see him to begin with. “I’m sure you already know from looking at my chart, I was in a coma for a few weeks. While I was in a coma, I had some very vivid dreams that still, to this day, feel like reality. Ok, maybe that came out wrong. The dreams themselves, I know they aren’t true, but the feelings I experienced during my dream … those are still real.”

“Can you explain further?” Shawn asks, still writing in his f**king notepad like a ten year old girl with a brand new diary. Okay, let’s chat, Nancy Drew.

Loudly releasing a long sarcastic breath, I continue, “In my dream, my fiancé Danny died. I went through the entire grieving process and eventually got over his passing. I ended up falling in love with his best friend and moving in with him. Now when I see my fiancé and he touches me, I feel guilty, because in my heart, I feel like I’m with Skylar, his best friend.”

“This is very interesting. Have you and Skylar ever had a relationship, outside of him being your fiancé’s best friend?”

“We’ve all been friends since the first week of college. We graduated and spent a lot of time together. When I came out of my coma, the first person I saw was Skylar. We had a conversation about my dreams and he confessed to being in love with me as well. I really feel like I’m in the wrong relationship, and I might have been in the wrong relationship for a very long time.”

“So what’s stopping you from pursuing this new relationship with Skylar?”

“Skylar is the reason. He doesn’t want to hurt Danny and he thinks that I don’t know what I want. That’s why I’m here. I need you to tell me why I feel this way and how to take care of it.”

“That’s not something I can do for you Mira. Your feelings are yours and yours alone. Nobody can tell you what to feel, or when to feel it. I can say that I believe your feelings are a manifestation and are not actually real. You are probably still on an emotional high from being in a coma for so long and your body needs time to reconfigure.”

Are. You. Fucking. Kidding. Me. This guy is a piece of work. “What exactly do you mean ‘a manifestation’?”

“I read your file, Mira. I know that you were in a serious motorcycle accident and your fiancé was the driver. Regardless of the cause of the accident, you may be blaming him for your injuries and the time you lost during your coma. This is the brain’s way of blocking out the bad memories and refocusing on something entirely different, hence manifesting feelings that aren’t actually there to begin with.”

Well shit. “I don’t blame Danny; he did nothing wrong. I know what I’m feeling. Skylar told me that he talked to me while I was in a coma. I registered his words and I heard them. I felt them,” I desperately want him to understand and stop talking circles around me with his ‘shrink’ talk.

“Mira, doctors often tell family members and loved ones to speak to the party in the coma, as a way of grieving and getting out their emotions. The people in comas don’t actually hear them. You must be taking the word of Skylar, now, and applying it to your dream.”

Grabbing onto my walker and pulling my body to a standing position, I turn to face him, “Shawn, have you ever been in a coma? Have you ever had your world turned upside down?!”.

“No, Mira, I have never been in a coma, but I have been in this line of work for quite some time,” he replies, keeping a cool and calm tone, obviously still analyzing my words as he jots notes on his yellow legal pad.

“Well, doctor—if you’re even a real doctor—until you have experienced what I have, keep your opinions to yourself. You’re supposed to be helping but you’re basically calling me crazy. I knew I shouldn’t have come here. You’re all the same; condescending and belittling. I have no further use for you!” I yell, turning my walker toward the door to leave, wishing I could walk on my own. It would be so much more dramatic.

“I urge you to reconsider, Mira. I think I can really help you with the troubles you’re having,” Shawn says, not even standing from his chair or looking me in the eye.

“I’ll pass. If I want poor guidance, I’ll call the psychic hotline. I’ll figure this out on my own,” I say, walking out the door of his office and making the long trek back to my room.

After about fifteen minutes, I am safely back in my bed, alone and exhausted. I must have slept for a few hours, because when I wake up, it’s nearly dinner time. The food service worker brings my dinner into the room, placing it on the tray at the end of the bed. She attempts to move the tray closer to my upper body, when I lash out and throw the tray across the room.

“I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have done that,” I apologize to the kind young girl who looks terrified. More guilt is exactly what I need, I think sarcastically to myself.

“It’s okay, you look upset. I’ll bring you another tray. Just give me a few minutes and I’ll be right back,” she says softly, without judgment.

“Don’t worry about it. I’m not hungry anyway.”

The young girl leaves my room and I lie back on my bed. As I’m about to drift back to sleep, my hospital room door opens. Danny and Skylar walk into my room, quietly.

“Pea, what’s going on?” he asks, looking at the mess of food on the other side of the room.

“I’m fine, just tired of this place,” I say with my eyes closed, not wanting to see the look of disgust or pity in their eyes; which I’m sure both of them have.

Skylar stands at the wall opposite my bed, not looking at me or even acknowledging my presence when I finally open my eyes. His actions are really starting to piss me off and are making my current mood even worse.

“The doc said you can go home tonight, if you feel up to it. What do you say, Pea? Ready for us to take you home?” Danny asks with a grin on his face. I know he’s happy to get me out of here, and I should be happy to leave as well, but the thought of going home with these two scares the shit out of me.

“If he said I can go, let’s go,” I say, sitting up in bed.

“I’m going to grab all of your things, and pack them up. I’ll take them down to the car and pull it up front. Skylar, help Mira get downstairs, please.”

Skylar’s eyes widen in shock, as do mine. We both nod in agreement at Danny’s sense of leadership and start to move around. Danny takes a large pair of sweatpants and a tee shirt out of the bag he’s carrying and hands them to me.

I walk into the bathroom and take off the hospital gown. Looking at my body in the mirror, I can’t help but gasp. I have never been overweight, but my body looks so frail and weak. I push aside those thoughts and reach for the clothing Danny brought for me. I asked many times to change into street clothes, but was denied every time. They told me if anything happened, the gown would give them better access to anything they needed to do. I secretly hoped that I would fall back into a coma, and pick back up with the dream that still consumed my heart.

Once I successfully change clothes, I walk back into my room to see Skylar sitting on the edge of my bed, with his hands buried in his amazing dark brown hair.

“Sky, I’m ready to go if you are,” I say quietly, almost a whisper.

Looking up at me, his crystal blue eyes pierce into mine. His eyes aren’t the same as I remember in my dream. Where they used to be full of promise and hope, they are now consumed with sadness and doubt. The whites of his eyes are bloodshot, like he’d been crying or hasn’t slept. My heart breaks for this man right now.

“Danny just texted me; he’s downstairs. Let’s go,” he says, walking to open the door for me.

As I walk past him slowly, with my walker still attached to me, I catch a slight hint of his scent; all man and a little bit of cologne. My knees weaken automatically, and I start to waver. Skylar catches me by my arm before I fall. The minute we touch, I feel the current that I felt in my dreams. I look up at him through my lashes and stare into his eyes. He almost falls for the temptation and leans in to kiss me. Just before our lips connect, I close my eyes, waiting for impact, knowing it will be wonderful, but he pulls to the side.

“I feel it too,” he whispers in my ear.

Letting a cheesy grin come across my mouth, I steady myself and start to walk out the door. I pause and look back at Skylar, who has his eyes glued to my ass. Letting out a small giggle and shaking my head, I continue my journey.

“What’s so funny?”

“Oh nothing,” I respond still laughing.

I continue to giggle all the way down the hall and into the elevator. As soon as we hit the elevator, the proximity of Skylar to my humming body really hits home and I feel a sudden wave of arousal. I haven’t felt this way since I woke up, not even with Danny. Glancing over at Skylar, I can see him fidgeting around.