Pale skin, violet eyelids, sunken cheeks and slow heartbeat.
The same as you've been for nearly a week.
If I hadn't been so stupid as to let you get in the car with me you wouldn't be this way.
The rain reminds me of my stupidity.
This is my fault.
I wish you would wake up.
I miss your smile, the sound of your voice.
I miss the way you would hold me while I cry.
I miss the way you would smile and pick me up when I fell.
I miss the way you would just be you.
I can't find meaning.
I can't find anything to blame other than myself.
Hearing that beeping telling me your heart is still beating is the only comfort I can get.
It's all I have left.
The stars are bright tonight.
You're still in that hospital.
It's been another week.
I remember when you and I would lay on the grass.
You showed me all the shapes in the stars.
You taught me how to find different things.
Tonight I've fallen, and I can't get up.
I need you.
It's your birthday today, Kendall.
You're 18 today.
If it weren't for me you'd be celebrating.
You're looking worse.
They say you're not going to make it.
They say your heart is damaged and it's shutting down.
The beeping on the monitor is losing regularity.
It kills me to hear it.
27%
That's your chance of survival.
That's the number that I can't count past anymore.
That's the number of times my heart has broken.
17%
It's shrinking.
Don't stop fighting.
I know you can hear me when I talk to you.
You've responded to me before.
You've squeezed my hand.
You've twitched.
The only thing you haven't done is proved them wrong.
It's been a month.
They want to take you off life support.
I won't let them close enough to pull the plug.
I've told them I'll pay for it.
I won't let you die.
You're too young to die.
12%
I can't breathe.
This Is all my fault.
If I hadn't had that drink...
If I hadn't gotten in the car...
If I hadn't woken up that morning this wouldn't be happening to you.
This is all my fault.
I fell that night.
You tried to pick me up.
I just wouldn't take your hand.
This is my fault.
I wish you were here with me.
I need you to tell me you're going to be alright.
They say you're not in any pain.
They say you're going to die quietly.
I say you're going to live.
I won't let you die.
5%
This isn't going to work anymore.
I can't stand here and do nothing.
Maybe if I offer myself to the gods instead.
Maybe they'll take me instead of you.
You, who have been in that hospital bed for two months now.
You, who would never hurt a fly.
You, who would be stupid enough to love someone who nearly killed you.
You, who would be stupid enough to love me...
3%
They say you'll die when it hits 0%
They say you haven't got a hope.
I can't stop crying anymore.
I can't leave the hospital.
I thought you were pale before.
That's nothing compared to this.
I almost can't see you in contrast to those sheets, Kendall.
Your eyes are near purple.
They say it's lack of blood flow.
You're so thin.
I guess two and a half months without real food will do that to you.
Still, I'm praying for you.
I keep asking every god I can think of to have mercy.
I keep saying 'take me instead'.
I keep taking the punishment from your parents.
I keep writhing under the pressure of the guilt.
Please wake up.
1%
Your parents have given up.
The doctors had given up a long time ago.
I'm still here by your side.
I haven't been to school since the accident.
They've tried taking me to the psych ward by force.
I fought and bit them, beating one of the orderlies senseless.
They've tried sedating me and moving me.
I broke the needle before they could inject me.
For three days I sat by your bed with a pair of tweezers trying to get it out of my arm.
I still won't let them take you.
Ever.
0%
You're still breathing.
I'm watching as your breaths get shorter.
You're twitching more than ever.
It kills me to see you like this.
Obviously you're in pain.
Obviously you're still with me.
They find it astonishing to watch when I take your hand.
When I hold your hand, you stop.
You breathe normally.
It's amazing.
0%
But I know you're holding on.
Just for me.
3%
They said it would never happen, but it did.
They said you would never survive, but it's happening.
They lied.
They didn't know you the way I did.
Every day I sit and watch.
Every day they stare in wonder.
Every day.
Every day you get a little bit better.
Just for us.
19%
It's only a little.
After losing you slowly, I'll take it.
You've been in that bed for four months now.
You're slowly looking better.
Your blonde hair has more shine.
Your skin has more tone.
Your eyes are less bruised.
It's such a dramatic change compared to how you were before.
And little by little, you keep changing.
Little by little, you come back.
30%
It's taking time.
I don't care if it takes a year, I'll still stay here with you.
You're nearly there.
They say you might wake up soon.
They sound oddly hopeful for people who had given up on you.
I can't hold a grudge though.
They kept you alive for a little while.
I've been sitting in this chair for so long that it's moulded around my body.
My shape is literally in this chair.
And I wouldn't be surprised to find yours in that bed.
But soon, you'll be out of there.
I just know it.
49%
It's increasing faster every day.
I'm getting my hopes up.
I don't want to, but it's involuntary.
But then again, this is you.
You wouldn't let anyone down.
It's just not you.
You always were the sweetest guy.
Your heartbeat is back to normal now.
They think that's going to kick everything back into order soon.
I don't know, I'm not a doctor.
All I know is that I'm not giving up on you.
Ever.
70%
70 is my new favorite number.
It's because after five months, your green eyes finally opened.
You're awake.
You're talking.
You're smiling.
Your eyes when you saw me...
They dripped.
You cried.
Both from joy and sadness.
I hadn't been able to look at myself since it happened.
I didn't know I was so pale.
I didn't know my eyes were so puffy.
I didn't know I looked like more of a wreck than that car.
I didn't even know that I had a scar across my neck from the accident.
I never cared.
100%
You did it.
You recovered.
They're letting you out today.
They're letting you go home.
It was funny watching you walk after being in a bed for nearly six months.
Your legs were like jelly.
You stumbled a bit, but you got the hang of it.
It didn't take any practice for you to remember how to kiss me.
It's been three years.
I just found this journal again.
I found it while I was packing to move in with you.
I found the box full of all the things you gave me.
I kept the box in a safe place.
It was my treasure.
You were the best treasure.
I think you would've looked pretty funny in the box, though.
You're 21 now.
We've bought a house.
Your mom and I get along now.
I haven't had a drink since that accident.
And I don't plan on it ever again.
It's been another two years.
I found this journal while I was cleaning.
I have to find places for new things that we we given at the wedding.
The spare room is packed to the brim with random items that I need to move.
You're 23 now.
I'm 22.
Some people say its too early to get married.
I say I don't care.
If I love you and you love me, what could stop us.
Death didn't stop us, nothing else will either.
It's been another eight years.
You're 31.
I'm 30.
I didn't find this journal.
This time, it was Kayla.
She found it going through my closet.
She didn't know her daddy nearly died because her mommy was careless.
The look in the six year olds eyes when I told her was heartbreaking.
She ran into your arms when you walked through the door.
She told you never to leave her or her mommy.
She has your eyes.
She has your smile.
She's adorable.
It's been another seven years.
You're 38.
I'm 37.
Kayla's 13.
She's beautiful.
She loves her daddy for buying her a new guitar.
She loves her mommy for buying her a microphone.
She performs for us every Saturday night.
She has your talent.
She has my attitude.
You're still as handsome as you used to be.
I still love you as much as I used to.
It's been fourteen years.
You're 52
I'm 51
Kayla's 27.
I found this helping her pack.
She used to read it like a bed time story.
The pages are worn and yellow.
She still adores it.
She adores Eli too.
You walked her down the aisle last Sunday.
Shes off on her honeymoon now.
You're waiting in the car for us to drop them off at the airport.
They're going to go to Italy.
You know how Kayla always liked Italy.
Thank goodness she taught herself Italian when she was sixteen.
I'm going to miss having our little girl in the house.
It's been twelve years.
You're 64.
I'm 63.
Kayla's 39.
Eli's 39.
Alexa's 9.
Brodie's 7.
Alexa found this going through her Nanna's old clothing.
She didn't know her Nanna and Poppy have known each other for so long.
Brodie didn't know Nanna used to drive.
You're older, but you're still as handsome as you used to be.
Your skin may be wrinkled slightly, but your eyes are still as bright.
Your voice may be lower, but you still melt my heart when you sing.
I still see the boy I fell in love with 47 years ago.
You still see the girl you fell in love with 47 years ago.
Every now and again you touch the scar on my neck.
Every now and again I kiss the scar on your forehead.
It's been twenty years.
You're 84
I'm 83
Kayla's 59
Eli's 59.
Alexa's 29.
Cody's 30.
Brodie's still 22.
We all remember losing him to a tumor six years ago.
Kayla took It the hardest.
She nearly died of heartbreak.
Who outlives their own son?
Apparently, Kayla and Eli.
I found this in Kayla's drawer.
She read it like a bedtime story to Alexa once.
She claims the baby can hear her.
Alexa doesn't care, she loved hearing he Romeo and Juliet story of her Nan and Pop.
It's been twelve years.
You're 96.
I'm 95.
Kayla's 65.
Eli's 65.
Alexa's 41.
Cody's 42.
Brooklyn's 11.
She found this going through her Grandmas drawer.
Kayla adores her granddaughter.
You finally read this today.
You saw all of the things I used to say when you were in that bed.
You saw how I never left your side.
You saw how devoted I was.
You still see that girl beside you.
I still see that boy beside me.
And they still love each other.
It's been three years.
You're still 97.
Mom's still 96.
I'm 68.
Eli's 68.
Alexa's 44.
Cody's 45.
Brooklyn's 14.
Mom left this to me in her will.
I finally brought myself to write in this.
You two died in each others arms while you slept.
It was hard for us, but at least you went together.
The funeral was beautiful.
They read out part of this journal.
This is going to be passed down through the family.
Brooklyn loves it.
She reads it like a bedtime story, just like I used to.
We want all the kids to know your story.
We love you.
Always.