Emma Grasping The Reins

Part 1: The Winds of Resistance

I've known Emma ever since we were children simple minded in the sandboxes of time. I love her and suppose I always have. Sometimes my impulsive steps will lead me to the small park where we first met. A place where the swings hang lonely with nothing but the past and the wind behind them. It's there that the realization comes to light. One can't help but yearn for the moments forgotten to all but a few like myself, who can't let them go.

One day long ago while floating on the wings of childish simplicity, Emma and I made a pact to be friends forever. I don't remember if we shook on it or what the method was. But we sealed the pact with all the solemnity that two naive kids could muster. She told me she would always be true to her word if I was to mine. And from that moment on, my future seemed destined to be woven into her long chestnut hair.

Youthful days of folly charmed us into perennial optimism. We spent many summers together sharing ice cream cones and pushing each other on rusty park swings. One particular fourth of July I recall watching Emma's face fill with wonder as colorful sparks twinkled in her eyes. Her warm and contagious smile always left me feeling fuzzy inside. Even at such a young age I found myself drawn to her in ways I can hardly explain.

It never entered my mind that Emma could be anything other than the cheerful girl I'd always known growing up. And by the tender age of seventeen she appeared to have it all. Her family loved and supported her, a large group of adoring friends never seemed far off and she excelled at her studies. She even had plans to attend college abroad in Europe. Her life looked to be on a direct course heading towards happiness. Yet tragedy, when it's least expected, can strike down even the most jovial of spirits. And sadly. Emma was no exception.

I remember the day everything changed as clearly as if it were yesterday. It was a quiet November evening and the first winter snow was just beginning to fall. I was sitting alone in my room when I received word that Emma's father had died. The news shook me to my core, setting off an instantaneous panic. I rushed over to her house hoping to comfort her, but by then there was nothing I could do. Nothing anyone could do. Sorrow had her firmly in its clutches and refused to let go. The Emma I knew vanished. All that stood before me was a shell of her former self. Her tear soaked eyes looked straight through me. Nothing felt real.

No one had been home to hear her pleas for help as her beloved father suffered a massive heart attack. He died right there in her arms. It wasn't until his lifeless body was being wheeled away that her mother and younger brother finally arrived home. By then there was nothing to do but grieve.

I spent the entire night at Emma's side. Never feeling so helpless as pain and despair shook her entire foundation. I attempted to empathize with her for I had lost my own father at a young age, but it was useless trying. There was no comparison to what she was forced to endure. No remedy for the images haunting her soul. So I stopped talking, and instead stayed by her side until exhaustion finally carried her off to sleep.

It took nearly a year before Emma was willing to speak to me again. It was by far the longest period of my life. By then the girl I knew so well seemed like a distant memory. The confident and cheerful disposition I remembered so well had vanished. Only to be replaced by a shy girl with storm clouds forever drifting behind her eyes.

By then most of Emma's friends had given up on her and moved on. The plans she once had for studying abroad never materialized. Instead she went to a state college, and selfish as it may sound I was glad she stuck around. Life without her never would have been the same. For no matter how much she changed, I adored her all the same.

I stayed close by Emma's side that fall, even attending the same college as she did. It was during this time, half mad with the ardor of youth, that I first told Emma that I loved her.