What Endures (36 page)

“What?” she whispered.

He took another few steps, closing the distance between them further. ”You know those flashes I get? Some are clearer and more lucid than others.” He looked around. “Well, I had a flash of us here, before I left for Florida State.” She gasped softly, but continued to stare at him wide-eyed. “The memory’s clearer than most of the other flashes I get. But you know what’s even clearer?” She managed to shake her head slightly. “What I felt then.” He touched his chest, the area over his heart . “In here.”

Her eyes held his, disbelief tangling with hope swirling in their hazel depths.

“It was really hard saying good-bye to you,” he said softly. “I didn’t want to but-“

“We had no choice,” she finished quietly.

They looked at each other, the first time since his accident that they were both truly sharing a memory. Her eyes began to well with tears. “I don’t really recall the words, or what happened so much that I remember how I felt then.” She was still looking at him and he hated that he still had to throw her off-balance but it was necessary. ‘I knew, Megan.”

“Knew what?”

“Why you pushed me back to baseball.”

“W-what?” He nodded. “I knew you felt guilty and I didn’t want that for you.” He sighed. “I mean I felt it, before I talked to Tyler and had him confirm it for me.”

“Jason. . .”

“When I woke up in the hospital, in that time when I knew that something really serious had happened, and that my life had just completely changed. . .I was terrified. And that fear seemed to multiply with each test, each strange visitor looking at me with mostly pity in their eyes. And each minute that would pass without me remembering. . ." He exhaled slowly. "It just made things worse somehow.”

“Except you,” he said quietly. Her eyes flashed at his words. “From that first moment when you smiled at me. . ." He rubbed a hand across his neck. "I mean I didn’t recognize you, but I felt like I knew you. Having you around made things more bearable in the hospital and when you told me you’d be handling things for me, I felt relieved. Not only because I didn’t have to worry about those things but it meant I’d get to see you.”

He took another few steps toward her. Her eyes were locked onto his, and while he could see the tears continuing to well in them, her gaze was direct and unwavering. “That’s how it’s been since I’ve woken up. I feel things with you that I can’t explain." He chuckled. "You know when I was going to all those doctors, I met some people like me? I mean not as badly off but there were some who were struggling with their memories. I did some reading too." He quirked an eyebrow. "Did you know most people with memory loss tend to just forget that part of their life entirely? They don't want to deal with the people from that time, they don't want to try and remember. The pressure's too much, and it feels like they're forcing themselves to be someone they're not anymore."

"They tend to shut out the person they were closest to, since that's the person they feel the most pressure around." He gave her a wry smile. "So I should have been running away from you like a bat out of hell." He shook his head. "But something inside makes me want to be around you. And when I'm not, when I do something to drive you away, it feels like shit. And I feel this overwhelming need to fix it, to bring you back to me."

Tears had started to run down her cheeks, but she continued to stare at him, her gaze transfixed. “Only around you do I feel like the things you say to me feels familiar. Like when you told me to lay off Tyler. I didn’t remember anything, at least up here.” He gestured at his head. “But it felt familiar. Same with everything else. Why I needed you around, why I followed you here, why being with you makes me feel my memory loss less, instead of more.” He smiled wryly. “It never made sense to me. When I found out about us at the press conference, I thought being around you would make things worse, so I let my anger take over, wanting to drive you away." He shook his head. "The only thing is, when that worked, when you did go away, it wasn't what I wanted after all.  It actually felt worse without you, there was more pressure to remember, to go back to being that guy."

"You were right," he said with a slight smile. "I do think of myself as two people almost. The person I was before the accident, and who I am now. When I'm with people, I always feel this pressure to be the person before the accident, even people I don't know. . .like that girl from the coffee shop." He sighed. "The only time I feel like I'm not split in two is with you. When I'm with you, it's easy to forget I lost anything at all.”

She wiped the tears at her cheeks, and he longed to be the one to do it, but he knew he had to finish saying this. “That’s why I kept telling myself that I needed to remember. And I thought that’s what you needed from me. That things wouldn’t be right between us unless I remembered. That’s why I told you I hated feeling like I was always trying to play catch-up. I felt like you were waiting for me, like everyone else was.”

He took a deep breath. “That’s why I told my Dad that I wasn’t falling in love with you again. I was frustrated and angry. All those doctors had just told me that I wasn’t going to remember and my Dad was making things worse. It was like I wasn't ever going to merge those two parts of me, that I was always going to be split. I was scared. I’ve been scared since I woke up from that coma.”

She sniffed. “You never showed it.”

“False bravado,” he said wryly. “I had all these feelings and I couldn’t make sense of them all. So I denied them.” He paused. “But more importantly, I knew I didn’t need to fall in love with you because I. . .” He stopped, his green eyes boring into her. “The more time we spent together, the stronger those feelings became. And I knew, in my heart, that I already loved you. I was just waiting for my head to catch up.”

She drew in a shuddering breath, raising a shaky hand to her lips. He took the last few steps that closed the distance between them completely. He was now standing right in front of her, only the few benches of the bleachers separating them. “So when you told me that you loved me, it made everything clearer. Ever since I came out of the coma, I have felt like what I feel has always conflicted with what I think, or what I should think. Like I feel disconnected from my mother, I keep thinking I shouldn't because that isn't who she is now.” He sighed. "But after you told me how you felt, all that conflict about what I feel and what I think, it stopped."

“Then when I had that memory of us saying good-bye, and after talking to Tyler, it finally all made sense.” He shook his head. “You told me this before. You said I didn’t have to feel anything I didn’t want to feel. That I don’t owe anyone anything, especially you. And that knowing something doesn’t change how you feel. It took me a while to figure that out.”

“See I wanted the memories up here,” he said, indicating his head. “To match what I was feeling. And it wasn’t until these last few weeks that I’ve realized it doesn’t matter. That if I had those memories, every word, every gesture, every place and person that we’ve met or been to. ..it still wouldn’t change how I feel.”

“There are lots of things I just know and I kept wanting to know why or how I knew it. But it’s not important.” He smiled wryly. “I’m gonna take a shot in the dark here but I don’t think I was ever the rational one in our relationship was I? Not really big on the analysis right? Tended to go off half-cocked?”

She smiled through her tears. “You could say that.”

He nodded. “I figured. See? That’s why it’s been so hard. I was trying to analyze and think through my feelings. I wanted what I felt in my heart to match what was going on up in my head so that they'd stop conflicting.” He paused. “Except there was no conflict. How I feel. . .that’s my guide. I’ve always acted on my emotions, and maybe not with the best results, but that’s who I’ve been. Who I am. And I was trying to resist that.”

He smiled. “Like whenever Tyler and I argued, it felt familiar. The same with my Dad or my Mom. Everyone. Those feelings. . .they’re my memories. And you know what? You were right. Tyler and me, we’re always gonna have that conflict between us, but he feels like my brother. Just like I'm always going to feel uneasy around my Dad, feel that sense of anger, even if I don't remember exactly why.”

“I guess that’s why I said that you didn’t really want me.” He sighed. “I’ve known since I woke up that I’m different. I mean even if I got all 15 years back, every last, tiny memory back, I still wouldn’t be the same person. The accident changed me and I used to think that you didn’t want to deal with that change.” He shook his head. “But you know what? I’m still the same person, just like people who lose a loved one or have something else really bad happen to them. They’re the same person, but changed you know?”

“I know,” she said quietly. “The accident changed me too. But that’s not necessarily a bad thing.”

“I’m getting that.” He smiled. “Do I want to know all the whys and hows and wheres of falling in love with you? God, yes.” He paused. “But knowing those things won’t change what I do feel. You know how you can remember how something tastes or smell or sounds? But you can’t remember exactly when or where or how you remember those things? And even if you could remember when you had your first ice cream cone, or fresh baked cookies, it doesn’t change whether you like those things or not."

“Those flashes, no matter how vague or weak they were, I’ve always felt one thing.
Always
. I’ve realized it’s because it’s the strongest memory I have." He extended his hand and she took it. "Loving you. I may not remember how or when or where, but I remember.” She was staring at him, her small, soft hand gripping his tightly. “I love you, Megan. I never lost that memory. I don’t think I ever will.”

A soft sob escaped from her. With his free hand, he reached out and wiped the tears from her face. “I make you cry a lot.”

“You also make me really happy.” Then with a cry of happiness, she leapt from the bleachers and into his arms.

They clung to each other, tears and laughter mingling. Jason held her tightly, never wanting to let her out of his arms ever again. When she pulled back, her eyes were glistening with tears, but radiating pure joy at the same time.

"I love you too," she whispered before she pressed her lips against his.

He kissed her back, tasting the saltiness of her tears, but the sweetness of her lips too. He kissed her like they had been separated for years, and after his accident, it often felt that way. But for the first time since his accident, he could finally feel like things were going to be okay.

#

It’s going to be O.K.

That was the first time since Jason’s accident that she had been able to not only think this, but to believe it. It was no longer something that others repeated to her during her long vigil by his bedside, no longer something she had to tell herself to get through the days. It was no longer a way to live in denial.

She had her moment of clarity a while ago. But it was only recently that its true meaning finally sunk in. She had realized that she and Jason were just two sides of the same coin. And they had been struggling with the same thing.

That never-ending conflict between their heads and hearts.

She had battled her feelings for Jason because her head told her she would get hurt if she gave into her feelings. And it wasn’t until she had fully embraced her feelings for Jason and placed them out there in the open, exposed herself fully, that she had finally resolved her internal discord. Since then, that little voice in her head had grown silent, finally accepting her heart's desire.

That’s why it shouldn’t have surprised her to learn that Jason had been struggling with the same thing. Only he had been battling his head, telling him he needed a reason for his feelings, that he needed the visual, auditory, or pictorial memories to match what he felt.

How ironic
, she thought. She had always thought that Jason was the heart of their relationship. As he had pointed out, she was the rational one, the head, and while they still occupied those roles, they both had needed to listen to their hearts.

Jason finally released her and placed her gently on the ground. He looked at her tenderly as he brushed the hair from her face, tucking the long strands behind her ear. “I know this won’t be easy. There are things I still need to figure out. Not you, or us, but other things. And a part of me will probably always want to really remember and-“

“It’s never been easy with us,” she said with a gentle smile. “But someone, and it pains me to admit this, more perceptive than I am, told me recently that the best things in life are the things you have to work for. You value it more.”

He smiled. “That is smart.”

“Hmmm.” She caressed his cheek. “I do wish you could remember, but not for me. For yourself.”

He nodded, understanding. “Well, maybe in time, those flashes will come together and make sense somehow but I guess until then, we’ll sort it out somehow.”

“Yeah. That’s-” She quickly lost whatever it was she was going to say because she became acutely aware of how close they were, how close his lips were from her. How much she wanted to kiss him again. And suddenly, she just didn’t want to talk anymore. She reached up and kissed him soundly. She felt him smile against her lips before he returned her kiss gently at first, but then with increasing ardor. She sighed, and angled her head, fitting their mouths more closely and granted his probing tongue access.

The passion between them, long smoldering, ignited quickly and suddenly kissing didn’t seem to be enough. She felt his arms tighten around her and then lift her off the ground, crushing her body against his. She tightened her arms around his neck, pulling herself even closer. They kissed until they were breathless but still they didn’t pull apart. Touching their foreheads together as they both gasped for breaths, they held each other as if they would never let go ever again.

It wasn’t until they heard distant, but approaching voices, that she reluctantly pulled away from him. He set her back down on the ground and they both looked around, as if suddenly remembering where they were.