Chapter 127

May your faith give us faith

"I wrote you a letter" she said quietly. "While you were in the hospital. Would you like to read it?"

Patrick looked at her in surprise. Still trying to process his own letter to her he was unprepared to receive one in return. For a brief moment he contemplated saying no, telling her that he wasn't ready to read it but then his heart started to beat loudly telling him that not only was he ready, he needed to read it. Setting his letter down on the bed, he exhaled slowly.

"Y-yes. P-p-please."

Robin gave a small smile as she scrambled from the bed. Opening the closet door, she pulled down her hat box that was the repository of so many memories. Sliding off the lid she reached inside and pulled out the white envelope. She smirked as she saw the logo for Manhattan General. As she sat at his bedside following the first surgery and after reading his letter, she has so many feelings swirling around inside her and so many things that she wanted to tell him that she scrounged through her purse for some paper. Finding none, she asked at the Nurses Station and was given a large pad and an envelope with the hospital logo on it. Hardly the stationary for modern romanticism but in the end what mattered was what was inside, not outside.

"I'm going to go to Kelly's and pick up some chili and biscuits for dinner while you read this," she told him as she passed the envelope to him.

Patrick held on to her wrist and shook his head. Picking up the pen he dashed a quick note. You don't have to leave while I read.

Leaning across the bed she placed a soft kiss against his lips. "I'm not embarrassed to have you read it. But I was alone when I read your letter and I could just let the feelings happen because I wasn't worried or aware of anyone else. That was a nice thing to have and I'd like you to have the same experience. I won't be long," she said reassuringly. "And then when I'm back we can finish our movie."

Swinging his feet to the floor, Patrick got up from the bed and wrapped her in his arms, hugging her tightly. "L-love you" he whispered, brushing his lips against her cheek.

Patting his hip she smiled. "I know. I'll be back soon, okay?"

Patrick nodded and followed her out to the living room, letter in hand, as she pulled on her winter coat and boots. Giving him a small wave she disappeared out the door, pulling it shut behind her. Sinking into the couch, he stared at the envelope in his hands, trailing his finger along its edge. He was feeling hesitant about opening it but could not put his finger on exactly why. He did not doubt that Robin loved him and so the contents of a letter from her should be welcomed, exciting even.

As he dropped his head against the back of the couch and gazed up at the ceiling he realized he was worried about what the letter would reveal of the person he was prior to his surgery. He did not recognize the man he had been at all and he feared that his treatment of others had been even worse than what he knew already. He tapped the letter against his leg. Sitting up, he sucked in a breath and gently ran his finger underneath the fold of the envelope, freeing it from its sticky hold.

Closing his eyes he unfolded the papers, smoothing them out, and waited. After several minutes he opened his eyes and began to read.

Dear Patrick -

As I write this you are lying in bed, having just come from surgery. There are monitor leads, and a ventilator but I can still see you underneath all of that. Eric says your surgery went well and now we wait for you to wake up and let us know how well it really went.

It has been a remarkable time for both of us. My faith in myself and in the benevolence of the world have been tested but I think that it's only made me stronger. And having read your letter that you wrote this week I believe that your test of faith has made you stronger as well. And with that strength we can face anything togehter. I know I have told you how much I love you but I'm not sure I've ever told you what you mean to me.

You are a gift.

In my life I could not have imagined a love like yours. It has been given to me freely, without condition and that has allowed me to unlock my heart. You tell me that I have so much love to give but that is only because of what you have given me. One of the most remarkable things about you is that you are not aware of your impact on the people around you. You have no idea how powerful you are and that in of itself is amazing. Over these last six months I have watched you struggle to come to terms with mortality, disability, disappointment, fear, and past hurts and I marvel at how you keep pushing forward no matter how many times you get knocked down.

I understand why you left. You wanted to protect me, you wanted to somehow avert the pain that would come from seeing you at your weakest. The thing is, it wouldn't matter how far you ran because I would still be with you and you with me. When I fell in love with you, my heart made vows to yours that I have only begun to consciously recognize. For better or for worse; in sickness and in health. I live these daily in relation to you as you do to me. I know you do because you have shown me, time and again, the depth and strength of your committment to me. Moments that could have shaken the foundation for others, only rooted you further.

I used to believe that falling in love was binding. That somehow it was tying yourself to another person but as so often happens when I'm with you, I found my perspective changed. Falling in love with you has been liberating. I am free to love loudly, bravely and honestly. I am free to love completely because you have given that to me. You did it in a hundred million small ways and several very large ways as well. You had every chance to back away and no one would have blamed you - after all, I come with complications - but you didn't. You embraced me and all that I am, unconditionally, and that has been the experience of a lifetime for me.

The conversation we had on the docks, after I attended my first group session, has stayed with me through all these months. You told me that being a child of an addict was an insolating experience - that you felt alone. You also said that what hurt the most was being second choice to someone who loved you. I look at you, at the man you are and goodness you bring and I cannot imagine anyone not putting you first. I told you then and I will tell you again that you will never be second choice with me. You asked me to go on without you if you are incapacitated in some way and I have to tell you that it's simply not possible. There is no going on without you while you are still here. Because no matter what happens, it doesn't change who you are. And who you are is someone I love very much.

You are kind and compassionate, loving and playful, honest and forgiving. You are generous in ways that you don't even realize. You are brave and courageous - you are a fighter and I love you. I found your list of memories that you want to make and my heart is full with anticipation at the adventures that are waiting for us. I believe that you will recover. I believe the best is yet to come for us. I believe in you. There is a long road ahead of you before you come out on the other side of all of this. And it will be scary and frustrating and daunting. But I want you to know that you are not alone. I am with you. I will be by your side every step of the way, encouraging you to embrace the world around you as you have done for me.

Being loved by you is an answer to a prayer that I was sure had gone unheard and I am grateful that we found each other.

I love you. Forever and for always.

Robin