Waves of Us

16 | with the tide

I'm not sure what to expect when I step outside the restaurant. Part of me wants to run because that's what our friend group does best, but now that time has allotted us a chance to breathe, my heart sings for her. Time doesn't erase what feels like an eternity of friendship, and the mistakes I've made do nothing to diminish the love.

My heart disconnects from my lungs as I feel my breath pick up speed. Slowly, I convince myself to calm down and walk toward her. Time slows and spins around until the good and bad times alternate like crashing waves racing toward the shore.

"Hi," she mumbles. From inside the restaurant, she looked so big and intimidating. Up close, she's smaller and more fragile. "Sorry to interrupt but when I saw you, this felt like one of those take-it-or-leave-it moments."

I almost laugh because if I was in her position, I probably would have the same reaction. Our friendship was a cloud of dust waiting to be blown away in the wind. This was a moment to reach out with our hands and catch it before we lost it for good.

"Um..." I look around for somewhere quieter so the two of us can talk but we are in the middle of a mall, so that ideal setting is few and far between. The closest acceptable choice is a bench off to the side near the escalators. "Do you want to talk over there?"

Emmie looks at me like she's in a daze before quickly nodding. She waits for me to walk first, almost as if she's afraid I'll run away if she takes her eyes off me for too long.

For a moment, I can almost pretend like it's old times again, the two of us hanging out at the mall together. The number of times we have braved an hour-long bus ride to walk around the mall and not buy anything because we were broke high schoolers is too high to count. Or when we finally did have jobs but still didn't buy anything because we were still broke, just an adult version of it.

The conversation with Heather rings through my ears, reminding me that this girl in front of me somehow wants to move on with me. Even as I tell myself I don't deserve her forgiveness, I wait with bated breath for it, as desperate to hear those words as I've wanted anything else. Just because I don't deserve it, doesn't mean I don't, to some extent, want it.

"How have you been?" she asks.

I have to laugh. "Alright, I guess. All things considered."

Emmie rolls her lips together and nods. "Your dad? Anthony?"

"They're alright." Or as alright as we can ever be. Our family is still rolling around as mindlessly as we were when she was still around. In some regards, that part of my life never changed. If she walks back into it, she'll feel like she's walking back through a time machine.

"That's good." She nods again, the movement jerky and unsure of itself. "I was worried about all of you the entire time I was gone."

My body tenses up at this confession and Emmie notices right away. It's easier to pretend the time spent apart wasn't as debilitating when we're not actively speaking about it.