Whatever It Takes
Four.
.AUGUST.31.2000. 4:31 PM.
I watched the nurse as she slowly pulled needles and IV's out of my fiance's arms, and pulled the sticky adhesive of the heart machine sensors off her frail skin. I grimaced at the painful moans she'd make everytime the adhesive ripped off her skin, every time a needle was yanked out of her vein.
I walked over, and held her hand gently, looking down at her sadly as she avoided my gaze. Her hand stayed limp in mine, and she stayed silent. I frowned. She was still mad over my sending her here. Over the whole thing in the first place. She was convinced there was nothing wrong with her, and that going to rehab was ridiculous.
As I grabbed her bag, I realized this would be the last time I'd see her for a few months at minimum. Would she stay with me after this? I put my arm around her waist, helping her walk a little as she was so weak.
I wondered how much she'd change through rehab. Would she still be the girl I knew and loved, or would she change into a bitter woman, who would leave me at her first chance? Would she still love me? Would I still love her?
Things like this could take years, I knew. I hoped it would just be merely months, though. I thought of if she'd do what I'd heard of so many times, and just pretend she was better so she could get out. Would she be able to pretend, as she looked into a mirror with a look of disgust and hatred? Was she a good enough actress to hide that? Would a trained, educated psychologist be able to notice, either way?
I looked over at my fiance, and my eyes watered up. She was so skinny, so weak. So far away from me that I couldn't believe I'd let this happen. Let this divide us.
"I don't need to be doing this." She spat.
"You've got to love yourself if you're ever going to love me, Carly." I said quietly.
"I'm sorry, Milo. I've let you down." She rested her head against my shoulder as we walked. I felt a wet trail going down my cheek, and gritted my teeth.
"We'll get through this, don't worry."
"How do you know?" She looked up at me, her eyes flashing as tears gathered up in them. She hated crying.
"I just know."
"I'm going to turn this around, Milo. I promise. " She said, looking at me with hopeful eyes.
I thought of her mood changes, and the dangerous life she'd been living for at least two years now. God, I hoped she could fix it. I was so scared for her.
I pulled her closer. "I'll keep us together, regardless, baby."
She sighed.
"Do you believe I can change?" She asked as we got to the front doors of the hospital where a car would take her to a small rehab center a couple hours away.
"Yes."
I hope so.
As my fiance was driven away I realized that we would make it. She would get better, because I knew Carly. She was a determined girl, and she would be surrounded by people who cared about what she was going through. I did believe she could change, because I knew she could do it for me. I knew she would do whatever it was that she needed to just to get back to me. I felt awful that I ever doubted her. Because I knew I'd do the same for her.
I knew we'd both do whatever it takes.
I watched the nurse as she slowly pulled needles and IV's out of my fiance's arms, and pulled the sticky adhesive of the heart machine sensors off her frail skin. I grimaced at the painful moans she'd make everytime the adhesive ripped off her skin, every time a needle was yanked out of her vein.
I walked over, and held her hand gently, looking down at her sadly as she avoided my gaze. Her hand stayed limp in mine, and she stayed silent. I frowned. She was still mad over my sending her here. Over the whole thing in the first place. She was convinced there was nothing wrong with her, and that going to rehab was ridiculous.
As I grabbed her bag, I realized this would be the last time I'd see her for a few months at minimum. Would she stay with me after this? I put my arm around her waist, helping her walk a little as she was so weak.
I wondered how much she'd change through rehab. Would she still be the girl I knew and loved, or would she change into a bitter woman, who would leave me at her first chance? Would she still love me? Would I still love her?
Things like this could take years, I knew. I hoped it would just be merely months, though. I thought of if she'd do what I'd heard of so many times, and just pretend she was better so she could get out. Would she be able to pretend, as she looked into a mirror with a look of disgust and hatred? Was she a good enough actress to hide that? Would a trained, educated psychologist be able to notice, either way?
I looked over at my fiance, and my eyes watered up. She was so skinny, so weak. So far away from me that I couldn't believe I'd let this happen. Let this divide us.
"I don't need to be doing this." She spat.
"You've got to love yourself if you're ever going to love me, Carly." I said quietly.
"I'm sorry, Milo. I've let you down." She rested her head against my shoulder as we walked. I felt a wet trail going down my cheek, and gritted my teeth.
"We'll get through this, don't worry."
"How do you know?" She looked up at me, her eyes flashing as tears gathered up in them. She hated crying.
"I just know."
"I'm going to turn this around, Milo. I promise. " She said, looking at me with hopeful eyes.
I thought of her mood changes, and the dangerous life she'd been living for at least two years now. God, I hoped she could fix it. I was so scared for her.
I pulled her closer. "I'll keep us together, regardless, baby."
She sighed.
"Do you believe I can change?" She asked as we got to the front doors of the hospital where a car would take her to a small rehab center a couple hours away.
"Yes."
I hope so.
As my fiance was driven away I realized that we would make it. She would get better, because I knew Carly. She was a determined girl, and she would be surrounded by people who cared about what she was going through. I did believe she could change, because I knew she could do it for me. I knew she would do whatever it was that she needed to just to get back to me. I felt awful that I ever doubted her. Because I knew I'd do the same for her.
I knew we'd both do whatever it takes.