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Even in the darkest of times, it is always important to focus, if you can, on the positives. No matter how small. No matter how few.
Because I know, deep down, I am made of strong stuff. Rebuilt with it, at least, the way we all are, over the years, with age and experience, skin thickening, heart softening, patched up double in the places prone to breakage. A sum of all the things that have hurt us, scared us, sheltered and delighted us.
Nobody says it, of course, it’s all ‘I’m so excited; I’m so happy for you!’ But deep down, every friend is thinking ‘Shit. Everything’s changing. I’m going to lose my mate to this person who could absolutely be a total and utter bastard. And I’ve got to smile throughout it while I let them go into the arms of a potential monster. And what does that mean for us?’ Poke writing a speech, I would actually like to spend my time having an existential crisis in peace, thank you very much.”
Maybe one day I’ll see the northern lights. And someday I’ll fall in love.
Maybe home isn’t a place. It’s a feeling. Of being looked after and understood. Of being loved.
Why did you pull me toward him, for miles and miles, if this is how it ends up?
I stifle a laugh, pressing my lips together as he squeezes the tea bag, adds milk, and looks at me, eyebrows raising as if to say, “See? I’m right, aren’t I?”
No squeezing!
“That is called a conversation, is it not, Emmie? How relationships are made, slowly sharing pieces of yourself, in turn?”
“What I’m saying, Emmie,” says Rosie, “is do you love Lucas? Really? Or do you just love the idea of him?”
“Do you know why I like storms?” says Louise as my fingers reach for the switch. “They’re a little reminder that we’re not at all in charge, but Mother Nature is. And while the world might not look exactly how we’d prefer it to, it is enough, if we just stop and look. The whole sky lit up. The smell of the rain. Safe inside. What more could you need?”
“I finally kissed Emmie Blue.” Eliot bends, laughing into my ear. “My inner nineteen-year-old is beside himself right now.”
“Eliot is here, isn’t he, Emmie?” she says, holding my hand. “He’s always here. That can’t be said about the other one. Let it be. Let him love you.”
I find Lucas in the kitchen, squeezing tea bags against the sides of two mugs, still dressed in my red apron.
I'm sorry, but no self-respecting Brit squeezes their tea bag.
I hold it, and bend to my feet, pulling from under the table, a white heart-shaped balloon. “I know it’s super crap for the environment.” I sniff. “But there’s a card attached to this and you can write your wish on it. A wish for you. For your marriage. For your future. For avocados.”
This one's for you, @sassystone!
