At first, I couldn't understand it. The words didn't connect in my mind.
Helga Pataki tried to commit suicide.
It couldn't be possible. Not Helga. Not the fire that shone bright and fierce since I was a toddler. Not the girl who captured me and held me for years. Not the girl who brought out the worst in me, drove me insane, and yet somehow always made me want to be around her.
But wait, this wasn't the same Helga. I noticed it a while ago. At first, when you began smiling more and opening up more, I was excited. Inexplicably, you became nicer and friendlier. That friendliness even extended to me, the guy I thought you hated the most. At first I was even more excited. Finally, now was my chance to get to know the real Helga. The Helga that I knew was hiding behind her hard and angry exterior. As we began to spend time together though, I realized that I was still far from knowing the Helga that I wanted to know.
Even as I stare at you, a breathing tube down your throat and an IV in your arm, I realize that I never truly knew Helga. The hair spread over the pillow was the same shade of yellow, but the usual healthy glow to your skin was gone. And your eyes, usually so intense and blue, were closed now. But they haven't been intense for a while now have they? I noticed that first I think. Whether you were happy, angry, annoyed, amused or down right enraged your eyes would have a certain spark to them. And when you were sad or deep in thought your eyes became bottomless pools of emotion. But when you changed, when I thought you were becoming happier, your eyes dimmed. Even when you laughed around me or our friends, your eyes were dim.
I wanted to ask you why, but I thought you just needed space. I thought that in time you would feel comfortable enough to open up to me for real. But you never did. Even when you smiled and we went with the others to the movies, or talked to me about your day, you never really opened up to me. Everyone seemed to be fooled by your act. Gerald, Lila, even your parents seemed to think everything was okay. Only Phoebe seemed to realize that something was amiss. She was worried about you, you know. She even goes as far as to blame herself.
But I was the one who should have seen. Who should have known how far you were drowning. I'm sorry. I'm so so sorry.
I wanted so much to save you, but I didn't realize how far and fast you were falling. I tried so hard to be there for you, but I was too afraid to push you. I thought if I push you too hard, you would push me away completely.
I broke up with Jennifer for you, did you know that? I broke up with her and Amanda to make sure that you knew that you were the most important person in my life. That I was available to you in a way that I was available to no one else. Gerald teased me and said that I was in love with you. He was right and wrong. I was in love with Helga, but you hadn't been Helga for a long time.
But I still held out hope. Cracks began forming in the shell you locked yourself in. I began to see it wear down on you. Your eyes became more blue than gray, and you began sleeping more. And there were times when you thought no one was looking, when you thought I wasn't looking, that your real self would resurface. Irritation would spark behind your empty eyes. Restraint tightened your empty, vapid smile. I thought that any minute now, the real Helga that I love would burst through and shatter this false version of yourself that you created.
So I waited. And waited. But you didn't come back. You quit softball and began sleeping more instead. And the spark that was your true self, the fire the could out burn the sun itself, was dimmed again. I tried. I called you but you didn't answer. I wanted to rescue you, bring you back to me. But I was too late.
It's been months now, I sit here and hold your hand every day. I'm waiting for your fire to come back and burn though this hollow shell that lies sleeping in this hospital bed. Everyone misses you. The real you. That's who they're praying will come back. The Helga that beamed Harold with the softball when he claimed girls could never be good at sports. The Helga who smashed Miriam's blenders after she had to be admitted to the hospital. The Helga who tormented me for years, made me fall in love with her, but then disappeared, hidden within a shell.
"Please come back to me, Helga." I whisper softly stroking your hand, "Please, so I… so I can tell you in person that I love you. So I can tell you in person that I miss you. Everyone misses you. So please, please come back Helga. Come back to me."
Your hand remained still in mine like it had for months. Your breathing remained shallow and even. I closed my eyes and leaned my forehead against yours. The brain monitor continued its monotone, regular beeping.
"I love you Helga," I whispered one more time.
My lips then moved on their own accord and kissed your forehead. The monitor gave an irregular beep, then another. But I didn't move away. The nursed had warned me the first time it happened that random brain waves didn't mean anything. So I let my eyes remained closed for a moment longer, enjoying the feel of your skin against my lips, hoping that someway, somehow, you could feel it wherever you were.
I pulled away slowly and when I opened my eyes, I found myself staring into your crystal blue ones.
