Patrick's POV

I remember watching my parents fight when I was young. They were some of the darkest times of my life. I would hide in my closet, cover my ears, and cry alone in the dark. Occasionally, my sister or brother would come in and comfort me, but I'd still feel horrible inside, knowing that my parents weren't in love with each other anymore.

They finally divorced when I was eight. We all saw it coming and took the transition well, except for my dad. He was still in love with my mom.

"Why don't you convince her that you still love her? You could get her back!" I told him.

He'd laugh softly, "Patrick, it's not that easy. We've already started signing things and I'm going to be getting another house."

"But you still love her!" I repeated, getting impatient.

"Sometimes, people don't do things for themselves. They do it for the greater good of someone else. Your mom and I didn't get along well, and I don't want you, Megan, or Kevin growing up watching that. Yes, I still love your mom, but it's for the best," he explained, "Don't worry, you'll understand someday."

I never fully understood that until this morning. I never really realized the situation I'm in. I'm in the same position as he was back then.

It hurts to admit it, but I still love Elisa. My heart aches to have her back, yet I let her go. I let her go because she wanted to. I let her go even if it wasn't completely my choice to. I let her go because I love her.

With Leah, I decided to stay strong. I haven't left her yet or given up hope. Even if she doesn't make it through with this and I have to leave her behind, I'll have left her because I love her. There might not be anyone I love more on this planet than Leah.

With clouded eyes, I dialed my dad's number and held the phone to my ear, listening to it ring a few times before he answered.

"Hello? Patrick?" he asked, surprised. We haven't talked in a long time, so I feel even more guilty.

I gulp, "I understand now..."

There was a long silence. I only heard my father's breathing.

"I'll be right over," he said and hung up.

I tossed the phone on the couch and sprinted into my bedroom. Quickly, I changed into clothes and cleaned the best I could until he showed up at my door.

He smiled weakly at me as I opened the door. It was raining, so his coat was wet with raindrops. I hurried him inside and closed the door.

When I turned around, he was there. His smile started turning into a frown, "Patrick... I'm-I'm so sorry... I never meant-"

Before he could say anything else, I stepped into his arms and hugged him tightly. It's been ages since I've ever shown any love for my dad, so he's pleasantly surprised. The wet raindrops start mixing with my tears and the sobs coming from my mouth are to powerful to choke. When he hears me, he starts up too, making me only worse.

"I would never wish that you'd be in the same- worse conditions than I was. First Elisa, now Leah? Lord, I don't even know what I would be like," my dad told me through his tears. His attempt to stay strong was failing horribly.

"Like me?" I broke the hug and chuckled a little, wiping my eyes.

He laughed back, "Probably worse..."

We sat down at my empty, depressing dinner table and talked for a while. He told me that he saw our interview about a week ago. It was the one about me explaining Leah's condition. She's worsened since then, but he at least knew the gist of it.

"What's she like?" he tried lightening the mood.

I looked off into the distance, "Oh wow, I can't describe a young woman so beautiful. She's so young, too, that's what really hits me. Time is slowly ticking away from her. Precious minutes, hours, days, and weeks are being stolen from her life. A few hours ago, Pete called me over there and she looked so much older, lying there, nearly dead. She was having trouble breathing..."

I glanced over at him and blushed, "Sorry, you asked what she was like."

He chuckled, "That's okay."

"She was somewhere around 24-25ish, a fan that I met during our meet and greets. She really stood out as unique to me. Fans have written letters, sent drawings, sang covers for me, but none of them compared to her. We brought her out camping. God, she was a riot. We had a lot of fun out there. She had the best laugh and she never stopped. The guys loved her."

My dad beamed, "It sounds too good to be true."

I nodded and looked down to the table, "Exactly."

"But you talk about her in the past tense, like you've already lost her," he pointed out.

I thought about it, "No, I haven't lost her yet."

"That depends on what you're listening to: your mind or your heart. Your mind's telling you that she's in a coma and she won't come back until she wakes up. Your heart's telling you stop thinking like that and that she will wake up and live with you."

He was never this inspirational. It was surprising, the words coming out of his mouth. Maybe he's just an expert, now, after going through the divorce and watching me.

"Do you go see her often?" he asked.

Again feeling guilty, I replied, "No, today was the first time I've seen her since we left her."

"Why?" he questioned, "What's stopping you?"

I could've made the excuse of the shows we did and the new album we're in the making of, but I didn't. I told the truth, and I didn't even know what it was until it was already said, "Because I'm afraid."

After realizing what I said, I started tearing up again, "I'm afraid that I'll lose her or she'll wake up with amnesia and have forgotten me. I don't want to have lost two..."

"Stop..." he asked of me sweetly and full of care, the voice I've missed for so long.

I pulled myself together and he started up again.

"She's still there, though. You still have her. Elisa and Leah. They're both still alive and dear to you. To Elisa, there's not much you can do anymore. I've told you about what that's like. With Leah, she could still pass away, but you still won't have lost her. She's still there. You found her legacy, that uniqueness that stood out when you met her. That's something that doesn't go away. Do yourself a favor, go see her more often."

I forced a smile for him, "Thanks Dad."

He got up and comforted me with a long, warm hug.

"Now, let's go out and get something to eat. I'm starving," he said and clapped my shoulder, leading me to the door.

I laughed a little. I wasn't very hungry myself, but it was getting a little late, and I wasn't complaining. It was more of a reason to spend time with my dad and distract myself from what happened today.

We had a great time, joking around, drinking, and laughing together. He dropped me off at my house later on and left back home.

I was almost tempted to go see Leah. I'd actually picked up my keys and walked to the door. That was the thing though, I didn't leave, and I hate myself for it. I'm still too shaken up and afraid that she'll die.

She has so much more of a life to live. It's not her time yet, and it's not my time to see that float away.