For Every Missing Shade

Entry 10

I haven't heard from her for days. She hasn't been at school all week, and no one knows where she is.

I can't talk to her, but I want to be prepared for when she lets me. I do my best thinking at night, so I made sure I stayed wide awake. I didn't want coffee, so tonight I slipped myself into a bathtub filled with ice and water. It was one in the morning, but the cold made it feel like three in the afternoon.

I worked through the night. I tried to paint, write, and listen my way out of this. I needed to figure myself out. I thought back to what Stew said about what I've been doing. I was so caught up in someone new that I forgot what mattered. But I was done going into Free Fall every chance I got. Emma is worth a parachute, and I'm not going to get that by rushing out the plane as soon as it takes off.

I ended the night sitting on my floor with my diary in my hands. I had crumpled up pieces of paper all over my room. Paint covered the hardwood and walls. I was looking through my diary, trying to find clues. I looked for stories I've written about her, trying to discover my solution through them.

I had a hold of something, and even though it wasn't her, it felt like her. It brought me back to her. I know I can't take this feeling for granted, so I did what I always do when I start to feel something: I wrote.

My music was playing loud enough to feel the rhythm course through me. I started the letter with something easy: Dear Emma.

Dear Emma,

When I was a kid, I had terrible separation anxiety. Any thought of being alone, or being around people I didn't trust, terrified me. I'd give up on sleep overs because I didn't want to leave my family. I'd miss out on trips because I'd be away from home for too long. My life was dictated by where my parents and closest friends were.

I don't know what made me change, but I eventually did, little by little. I started playing sports with new friends. I joined clubs, picked up hobbies. I started sleeping over more, hanging out more. 

It took space for me to grow. But, once I trusted myself to take a few steps outside of my comfort zone, my life got better. My relationships got better. I just wish I treated you the same way.

I have this habit of jumping into things too quickly, too harshly. When it comes to love, I burn quickly. I become too dependent. I did that with you.

But building takes time, and it takes trust. It takes space. Now I know that. We're both going to have lives, independent of each other. I know there are going to be times when I'm not with you, or when you don't want me with you. There are thing's that I haven't told you yet about me, and there are things that you haven't told me about you. And that's okay. We have time. I just got scared, and 'm sorry that I tried to make your past about me. I'm sorry I tried to insert myself into your history, your story. 

I can't see what you do when I'm not around. The way you talk, or the friends you make. But, I hope I can meet them someday. When I'm not around, I can't hear what you say or see what you do. But I hope I can be on your side even when I'm not there holding your hand.

If you want me to leave you alone, that's what I'll do. But I'm ready to listen. I'm ready to trust you. 

Please come back, Emma. I want to learn.

Call me when you're ready. Please. I just want to know that you're okay.

Israel

I tore it out of my journal and folded it into an envelope. I wanted to give it to Emma, but I knew she wouldn't be there. I looked at my clock; 5:00 am. I would deliver it the next day, I decided, and finally turned out my light.