I can't help but smile given the joy the woman before me holds for the simplest of things.
"It's two years today, Ethan; two years ago you came over and opened my window, two years since you recognized I was alone and in need. Two years ago you opened your home and heart to a perfect stranger."
When she says heart quieter than the rest, mine skips a beat.
Her voice wavers at the end of her speech, indicating tears are about to follow. I reach out to her, pull her into me, and hold her tightly as she surrenders to the sadness. This is the only touch I'm allowed - the only appropriate embrace.
Looking in the mirror, I see a man whose extraordinarily proud. While I may not be the mama bird watching her baby bird fly from the nest, there is still pride deep in my chest. Emily graduates today from high school. It's an accomplishment, which given the circumstances, is astounding. Today is special, and it's the first time I've ever worn a tie, so I check it one last time. My tie isn't the only surprise I have for Emily today. I purchased my very first car this morning, and I plan to drive Emily to her graduation in a 1998 Toyota Corolla. It belonged to Margie, my boss, but her husband bought her a new one. He sold me the Corolla with 160,000 miles at an unreasonably low price. I'd say he was giving me a bit of charity, but no matter, it's mine.
Mine and Emily's.
"Get-out!" Emily shouts moments later as she looks at the champagne colored car parked on the street and then back at me. Her mouth is hanging open, unsure of what to say.
"Come on; get in. We have a graduation to get to."
"Your brother is way hot," I hear the blonde say. Emily doesn't respond, but another high-pitched voice does. "That's not her brother, you clueless bitch." Emily told me about this once, where females call each other names as terms of endearment, but I don't get it. If one of the guys at the store called me a bastard or asshole, I'd punch his face, endearment aside.
"Gretchen..." I hear Emily plead. "Please don't."
"What? He's not - which, of course begs the question, why aren't you bangin' his brains out, little Emily Evans?" Truth be told, I want to know Emily's response. It's not like I haven't thought about it a thousand times, but I'm curious to know if she thinks about it too.
"I have to - " then I hear footsteps rapidly retreating. I decide to make myself known and walk out of the hallway where I've been hiding since the conversation seems to be over.
"Hey, Ethan, you just missed Emily." The blonde motions down the hall in the direction Emily went.
I follow.
The sound hits me immediately as I near a classroom with an open door. Thankfully, it's a sound I haven't heard for a while, but hearing it now cuts me like a hot knife through cold butter.
"Emily?" I call to her as I enter the nearly empty room. The desks and chairs are stacked, waiting patiently for another round of students in the fall. Emily looks up, red-faced and glassy-eyed. She regards me for a moment, then bursts into another round of sobs. For a second, I think about how ugly crying is. I think Emily is beautiful, but the way her face contorts... it's just so unattractive. This crying mess in front of me doesn't look like Emily at all. Then the few remaining scraps of humanity I think I have left kick in, and those superficial and negative thoughts float away. All I'm seeing now is my Emily in pain - and I want to make it stop. I go to her as fast as my legs can carry me and take her in my arms, holding her close. We've only embraced a few times, but for me, it's special every time.
After several minutes, Emily has calmed and she raises her head to look at me. Her eyes are clear now, and as she gazes into my eyes, I think about how beautiful she is. It's all I can do not to place my lips over hers. We're so close that just a few inches forward would connect us. I want her so much sometimes it's hurts. But that's not meant to be, and my sinful thoughts have to remain hidden.
"Ethan, I have to tell you something. Well, ask you something, really. I mean I'm going to tell you something, but then I'm going to - " I cut her off by placing my hand gently over her mouth. She rambles when she's nervous, plus my hand will keep me from kissing her.
"Deep breath," I coach her and myself. After a few relaxing sighs, I encourage her to start again.
"You can tell me anything, Emily. I'm here for you. You can trust me."
But never in a million years would I expect what she says next.
"Ethan, I love you."
Vacant Chapter 9 Love
The words are ringing in my ears: "I love you."
It occurs to me I may have misheard. It's the only possible explanation.
"So, you're okay? Don't listen to those girls, Emily." I'll just pretend those three little words aren't hanging in the air - regardless of whether they were actually said.
"Ethan, did you hear what I just said?"
What do I say? I have no idea how to approach this, so I just stare at her wide-eyed.
After a few moments, I feel warmth creeping up my thigh and realize its Emily's hand. At first, it's an attempt to get my attention, but as her hand ascends, I realize the intent is not so innocent.
"We have to go. It's time to go," I say, stilted, like Rain Man talking about his Kmart underwear.
I grip the steering wheel for dear life because if I don't, the car and my life will go careening into the abyss. I've spent all this time convincing myself that Emily and I could never be anything but friends. Knowing that she may feel the same about me as I feel about her will complicate things, and I suddenly feel trapped.
It's so quiet as we drive, that I hear a small plinking that would go unnoticed otherwise, but as I near the duplex, the sound the car is making increases. I briefly wonder if it's because the plink is getting worse or the quiet is just so intense. I make a mental note to find the origin of the plinking before putting too many more miles on the car.
I should be thinking about the woman sitting next to me and her recent declaration instead of small pings, but I'm not... I can't.
If I do... no.
I can't think.
I'm not even sure how I get here, but I'm sitting in the middle of my bed, having an argument with myself.
It's no surprise that I'm winning.
"She told you she loves you."
"She says she loves to cook. She loves lots of things."
"She's in there and you're in here."
"You really need to clean the ceiling fan blades."
I can't help but roll my eyes at myself.
When I finally exit my room, the apartment is dark and quiet. Emily is asleep on the couch with a tight grip on the blankets. Little does she know she's gripping at my heart the same way.
The notebook on the side table catches my eye, and I can't help but snoop. As I near it, I see there are several wads of paper strewn across the floor - discarded because they weren't perfect. The top piece, still clinging to life in its spiral bindings, is flawless.
Dear Ethan -
Sitting down to write this, I've never felt more like a young girl than I do right now. For the past two years, I've looked at you every day in hopes that someday - you'd feel for me, what I feel for you. But now I see that we perceive different things regarding our relationship. Maybe it could be classified on my part as hero worship, but I'd like to think I'm smarter than that. I think I know the difference between infatuation and love.
I know there is a difference in our ages, but who cares? My heart has no idea how old your heart is. I just know that if I don't tell you, it will fester inside me, and I'll die a slow painful death. I've only ever loved my mom and never really knew what it was like to care for another person until I met you.
I didn't fall in love with you that first day, but after many months of learning to appreciate your care and concern, I could see how kind your soul - your whole being is. That's when I knew another kind of love existed. It isn't the type of love between family members, or a crush, but a true love that is unconditional and lasting, a love that I can no longer hide.
I know you probably don't return these feelings, but I couldn't go another second without you knowing. I understand if it makes you uncomfortable, and I'll find another place to live if you feel like we can no longer be friends.
Love always,
Emily
I tightly clutch the notebook page in my hand.
How can she do this to me?
Doesn't she know what she's done?
No... it's not right.
Not now, and without any further thoughts, I'm out the door.
Vacant Chapter 10 Decision
When I finally look at the clock, I notice it's been seven hours since I ran out on Emily and my feelings. As I look out in front of me, the gray asphalt blurring with yellow and white lines, I make the decision to keep going. I don't want to be the one to ruin her.
No matter how far I drive, I come to the same conclusion over and over again. I must have given Emily some sign of my feelings for her. It was never my intention. I'm a stock boy at a grocery store. She needs someone to take care of her...buy her all the things she's never had. She doesn't need an orphaned schmuck with less money than common sense.
Usually, forty-eight hours doesn't seem like a whole lot. However, it's the longest I've been away from Emily in the time I've known her. It's hard for me to believe I've only known her such a short time because she's my whole life. How can your whole life be consumed by one person you haven't known your entire life?
Since I don't know the answer to that, I keep driving.
It's Friday the 13th. I hadn't actually realized it until I stopped for gas, and the lady in front of me was writing a check. She asked what the date was. The attendant answered her in a gleeful, yet macabre tone. Can one celebrate Friday the 13th? If today is the thirteenth though, that means I've been sleeping in my car for six days.
Six days without her beautiful eyes.
Six days without hearing the slight lilt in her voice.
Six days since she told me she loved me, and I left her - like a thief in the night. Six days of thinking about kissing, touching and holding Emily. It's the only thing I've thought about.
Suddenly, it hits me: I know exactly what the raccoon from yesterday felt like as the wheels of the truck ahead of me rolled over him crushing him from the outside in.
Vacant Chapter 11 Time
I drive and can't help that my emotions are all over the place. I'm angry because I've been living in exile from the one... The one person who gives a shit whether I live or die... I left her alone to fend for herself.
I take my rage out on the steering wheel before pulling over; I need a minute to collect myself.
Two minutes.
Five...
It takes me half an hour before I'm calm enough to continue driving, but I rush because I want to get back to her. I want to touch her, be with her. I realize how fundamentally wrong I've been about my feelings for her. While I thought I was doing what was best for Emily, I never considered that I was really just protecting myself. I hadn't taken her feelings into account. I hadn't thought about what I was doing to her by leaving...and in the same accord, making her declaration of love, trivial.
The anger fades and misery takes its place.
I'm sad because I miss her. I need her more than air.
I need air, and I need Emily.
Air is so much easier.
Before long, fear sets in. What if she isn't there when I get back? Why would she be? I left her by herself for six days after I swore I'd take care of her.
I think about what I did as I continue down the lonely stretch of highway.
I worked so hard to separate myself from the drama and emotions of everyday life realizing I haven't been living at all. I think of all the time I've wasted; all the time I could have been with her - been with her...
Her legs are bare and slender. I imagine what's just beyond the small rectangle of terry cloth. Her hair tickles the tops of her breasts, teasing me with what's just beyond the knot of the towel. One small flick and she'd be naked before me, her body as fantastic as I've always imagined.
My foot pushes a little harder on the accelerator as my frustration builds.
I'm tired and feeling the effects of driving ten hours straight. As I consider pulling over, the guilt seeps in again. I've already been away from her for too long. I can't stand to be apart from Emily any longer, but the seconds continue to tick by and I can't seem to get there fast enough. I push on, despite being a danger to others on the road due to my exhaustion. I see a gas station ahead, and force myself off the road and into the brightly lit convenience store. After hours of lonesome interstate travel, the intense glow of the fluorescent lights hurts my eyes, and only serves to remind me of the dim nature of my existence without Emily. I make quick work of refueling the car and myself and then rejoin the blacktop.
Finally, finally, I see the mile marker indicating my journey is almost over, an hour to go before I'm back with Emily. Anxiety weighs heavily on me because I think I could have gotten here faster; what if she just left? What if she's been waiting for the last week and that was her limit?
I shouldn't have left in the first place. I should have told her how I felt so we could be living a happily ever after. Regret won't change things, though. It doesn't serve any purpose now.
I pass the city limits sign, and a smile spreads across my face. I'm happy and hopeful. A hundred and one scenarios play out in my head as to how Emily will react when she sees me.
She throws open the screen door and rushes towards me. I catch her in my arms and spin her around. I tell her I love her and want to spend eternity with her. She smiles and says she wants the same thing...
We barely make it to the bedroom before I fully make her mine...
I open the door and call her name but no one answers. All her things are gone, and she's nowhere to be found...
As I make my way up the walk, she stops me and tells me she doesn't ever want to see me again. That I broke her heart and I'm a fuck-up she wants nothing to do with...
