Love in Photographs

22. Emma

August 31, 2015

It'd been a week since I'd came to Colorado. I'd seen the beautiful mountains on two different hikes, went fishing, and boxed enough that I was certain I had shed half my weight. A young girl named Emma befriended me the third day I was there. She was 12 years old and had been there for a few months. She was incredibly thin and her appearance was very pale and sickly. She suffered from anorexia. She had a camera with her, and liked to take pictures of the scenery around the center. So, of course I decided to show her some tips and tricks. Dr. Dillard told me she'd never seen Emma so happy.

Emma was a beautiful girl with a vibrant soul. On the fifth day I was there, she finally told me 'her story'. Her parents died when she was only seven years old in a car accident. Her fathers' estranged parents were her only relatives alive, so that's who she'd been living with. They were horrible people from what I was told. She kept giving them the benefit of the doubt, though, saying none of this was their fault.

I saw a bit of myself in young Emma. She had a terrible perception of herself. I told her she was crazy to not have confidence in herself, and as she shook me off, it was like looking in a mirror.

I was just like Emma, in a way. I had no self confidence, which fueled my toxic and dangerous way of thinking.

"You know," I had told her, watching her push her food around on her plate, not eating any of it. "Life isn't all it's cracked up to be. And for most people, like us, it's sometimes not very fair either."

"That's supposed to make me feel better?" She scoffed sarcastically, a hint of a smile playing at her lips.

"Not yet," I laughed. "I didn't get my happy until a few months ago. Everything that happened before that was either just... bland and monotone or absolutely terrible. Nothing was ever great."

"How did you find your happy, master?" She laughed, placing her hands together in a prayer formation and slightly bowing.

"I didn't find my happy. He found me." I smiled at her, watching her face become more serious.

"So you're telling me I need to wait for a man?" She scoffed.

"Of course not," I scoffed right back, rolling my eyes. "That just happened to be the package in which my happy came in. Your happy could be anyone or anything. If it is a person, it isn't going to be something you have to have and can't live without. Just knowing that this person is alive and is apart of your life will make you happy. You'll see. I promise you, your happy is coming. You're still so young. You have all the time in the world."

She smiled bitterly at me.

"Look at me, Rhiannon," She sighed. "I'm a basket-case. I'm not even thirteen yet and I'm already on the high-school junior level. I'll be taking SATs soon. I like books and cameras more than I like makeup and clothes. I'm not pretty or girly enough for anyone, especially a boy, to like me."

She crossed her arms on the table, pushing the tray away from her.

"Emma, do you know how old I was when I had my first boyfriend?" I asked her.

"I don't know," She mumbled.

"I was twenty-two." I told her, and she looked up at me quickly, astonished.

"Twenty-two?" She clarified.

"Yep. Approximately three months ago," I told her. "I hadn't even kissed a boy."

I watched as her eyes widened.

"But... you're pretty. You're smart, and you're nice. It doesn't make sense." She mumbled.