"I'm sorry Jenna. I'm sorry. We have to do it. We have to pull the plug."
I've cried more tears than I know.
Tyler tells me I was once in this same position as well. Five steps from death.
I nod to let the doctor know I've heard him. But I haven't, yet I know what he says. My hearing is nothing but a faint blur. All that matters is that his heart monitor still beeps. Faintly, but it beats.
The doctor turns to leave.
"Wait!"
His daisy pauses as the doctor turns.
"What if we took him off the respirator? We haven't tried it yet. He could be strong enough to still live and we wouldn't have even seen it."
Please live.
He pauses. Almost out of pity. Then he nods and leaves.
I sigh in relief. This could work.
Wring your dry hands, nails bitten down to shortest they could be. Turn to him. Your love.
His face is sunken and pale. Eye's shut, lips wrapped around a tube.
I miss his deep brown eyes, his vibrant laugh, like a coin dropping a pond, rippling, making everyone around him smile.
If he were awake, God only knows how many times he would have to endure hearing how much I love him.
Take his hand, touch his cold, pale fingers, the same fingers used to create his art, to run through my hair when I'm sad or sick.
Grasp.
"I miss you. I do. A lot.
I miss you.
I know deep down you can fight this. You can. You're Tyler.
Please don't go. You've not the faintest idea of how much I need you. Of how much I adore you. Tyler Robert Joseph. I love you.
I see your laugh in the orange glow of the sunset. The bright hair of your best friend. The high school. The daisies.
Stay."
I ramble this string of thoughts to my husband. I doubt he hears in this moment. Nobody hears me anymore.
Not my parents, not my sister.
Tyler heard me. He was the only one who cared to listen.
I almost feel as if he gripped my hand a bit. Then again, a lack of sleep for two weeks would make you feel things.
I stare empty at the clock on the wall.
3 p.m.
6 hours until they pull the plug. Until they end the life of my love.
My flower.
I turn to Tyler again.
I see a flower. But not a flower full of life. A shriveled up flower.
A flower that practically begs to be pulled out of the ground.
