"Alright Emma, I'm gonna need you to open wide and say ah."
"Arrfhh."
"Okay, good close."
"What does this have anything to do with my heart?"
"Nothing much, it's just standard procedure."
"Such a drag."
"I'm sorry ma'am but you'll only have a little longer, so stay with me."
"Fine, just let me out of here soon."
I hate the doctor. Stupid checkups every time— every single time.
Y'see if I was a normal person, checkups wouldn't be annoying, but when you have them 3 times a week on top of 5-hour appointments— it gets to be a bit much.
What's wrong with me anyway? I know I have a condition, but does that really mean anything's "wrong" with me?
Disease.
Condition.
What even is that?
I wonder if Nate has a disease.
Ow.
My Heart… it stings so much.
"Okay Emma, I'm going to hook up this EKG. Lift your shirt so I can put in the pads."
I hate this. I do as I'm told, no matter what. I have to. This stupid pervy doctor. Always smiling every time, I lift my shirt.
Disgusting.
* * *
I've been laying here in my bed all night.
I'm annoyed. I really wanted to ask Nate out today, but Hailey beat me to it.
For such a shy girl, she really is assertive.
I should let her have him, they look good together. Two cute, nice, introverts. Perfect for each other.
Not like me. I bet Nate gets annoyed around me. I'm always so energetic, ruining calm moods. I'm outgoing and mean. I'm selfish. I want him for myself. That's unreasonably selfish. It's also not possible…
I don't have too much time… not with how things are looking.
I want to tell him so bad…
It's so selfish.
I know Nate, he'd get so attached that he'd do anything I ask and spend all his time with me. That would only make him hurt more when I'm gone. I can't do that to him. Not when I'm like I am. He's already lost people he loves; I can't make him hurt any more than he already does.
They told me I can get a heart transplant…
If I do… my condition might go away.
I think my doctors aren't telling me the whole truth. I mean, for me to be having these random attacks all the time… it's not like how it used to be. It's not how it was. It used to be rare— rare for anything bad to happen. It can't be my arrhythmia.
They say, "Your heart is under incredible stress and strain lately."
What does that even mean?
I mean… sure, I'm more active than usual… and I am doing a lot more physically too.
Going to a school where I have to walk and use the stairs all day. Hanging out with people. Maybe… it's not that it's something else. Maybe it's just getting worse. All of these symptoms have gotten worse, but when did they start to get worse?
Six Flags.
That must be it.
My stupid feet. My stupid hands. I hate this. I feel like a prisoner in my own body.
Huh? A text message.
Nate: "I'm at your front door, can we talk?"
' * * * '
"Emma… Thank you for having me."
I stepped inside of her house, greeted by a warm blow of air from inside.
"Uh, leave your shoes at the door."
"A-alright."
Emma's house was different from what I expected. It was bland. Almost uninviting– like it was something that you didn't actually live in.
I saw a man– maybe around his 40's. He was sleeping on the couch with a beer bottle in his hand and some movie playing in the background. He seemed to still be in his uniform for work– a police officer uniform
"Come with me to my room. We can talk there."
"Right…"
She led me down the hall. I walked behind her, only a step behind every time. I felt a sense of dread flood me. It felt like a prison. There was a faint smell of disinfectant when I entered her room. The same they use in the hospital. She had a normal sized room. Not large or anything, but not tiny– it wasn't cramped, just not huge. It seemed pretty normal, not too different from Haileys. But what was different was the absence of a bookshelf. It was replaced with a hospital machine I didn't know the name of. It was taller than me, probably being 7 feet. It was intimidating. I felt scared. I felt trapped.
"So, what did you need?"
"I just… I wanted to talk to you…"
Should I go?
"Sit down Nate."
"Y-yes ma'am."
"Why are you being so formal? It's creepy."
"S-sorry…"
"Nate, I saw you looking at my 'father' earlier."
"Oh– I just didn't know you had a dad."
"I don't."
"Oh… then who was he?"
"My step-father. A stranger."
She looked angry. Her face took a grim look, almost like a shadow had covered her. I could see a light blue in the air. A stroke. Blue. Blue. Blue. Blue. Blue.
Blue.
"Sorry…"
"Why are you apologizing?"
"Nothing… I just… forget it."
"So, how do you…feel about… love?"
"Love, huh? Mmm… I think it's probably real. It's great when it's going… but it's terrible when it doesn't exist."
"Have you ever been in love?"
"... I am— I have been in love."
"Then how do you ask someone if they love you?"
"You can't dance around the issue– the question. You must do it, with no hesitation. You cannot waste time; you can't afford to lose a second. Not you."
I'm gonna do it. Soon… just wait Emma.
"Thank you, Emma."
"Nate, do you wanna stay for a while?"
"S-sure…"
She stood up off her bed and grabbed her phone. She connected it to a speaker and began to play music. As the music played, she danced around by herself as I watched from the side. It was as if she moved in slow motion and every move, she made was fluid– accidental but still precise. Blotches of color splashed around the floor with every step she took. Red. Aggressive. Blue was calm. White was fast. Black was slow. This combination of colors and movement continued. On and on and on again. Over and over, she spun and walked around by herself. Then when that song concluded another concluded.
The song was "Put Your Head on My Shoulder" by Paul Anka.
She reached out her hand to me as the song began to play.
I grabbed her hand, and she pulled me up.
"Do you know how to dance?" She whispered.
"My mom taught me a little before the middle school dance, yeah."
"Then I'm gonna need you to lead because I've never done this before."
She put her hands on my shoulders and I put my hands on her waist. It felt so small, so thin. You really could tell something wasn't right.
As we danced around, romping side to side, she moved in closer as I wrapped my arms around her waist and she rested her head on my shoulder, arms now wrapped around my neck.
"Nate…"
"Yeah?"
"I wish we could be like this forever."
"We can…"
"No… I won't always be here Nate."
"Yeah, but everyone dies, we still have a long time together."
"I wonder about that…"
What does she mean?
' * * * '
I'm so cruel.
' * * * '
"Nate…"
"Hold me."
"I am."
"Nate…"
"Yeah…"
"Are you in love?"
"Yeah…"
"Same…"
We both knew we were talking about each other.
"Emma?"
"You're not gonna disappear right?"
"I won't."
"You'll tell me if something is going on?"
"Of course."
"You're my best friend Emma."
"You're my best friend Nate."
This song…
Put your lips next to mine dear
I want to say that to her.
I want to hold her forever.
I want to love her, be there for her, care for her when no one else does.
Emma, I want to be there when the world ends. I want to be able to hold your hand. I want to be able to talk to you and smile and laugh and cuddle and spend every day with you. I love you so much, I love you so much it hurts.
It hurts.
It really hurts.
So, this is what they call heart ache?
"Nate?"
"Yeah?"
"I like you." She said with a sweet innocent voice. Her sweet and soft voice tickled my ears like a feather on sensitive skin.
"I like you too."
And with that, she started crying on my shoulder. I squeezed her even tighter. God I love her.
"It hurts Nate."
"It hurts me too…"
Though neither of us said it… we could both feel that her time was running short, and I finally understood what she meant by those words.
I wonder about that…
She's so cruel.
She's so very cruel.
An evil angel.
Or a beautiful devil.
An explosion of colors appeared everywhere.
Her once pale pink nightgown was covered in shades of hot pink and blue. Every color of the spectrum was coming off the ground as we moved back and forth.
I kissed her forehead.
"That was nice."
"It was."
She grabbed my hand as the song concluded and we stopped dancing.
We finally met eyes and were both incredibly red.
Maybe it was because of the activity or maybe it was our passion, but we both burned a bright red. A glow from our faces.
I checked my phone for the time.
It was almost midnight.
"I can't walk home."
"Then… stay here."
"O…Okay… I'll go sleep on the couch downstairs."
"You can't sleep without a blanket. You'll catch a cold."
"Oh…"
"Come in."
She laid down on her bed under her sheets. She patted on the other side of the mattress.
I was nervous. Even though it was so warm, I was still shaking.
When I got in the bed, I faced the wall– away from her. She put her hand on my shoulder and told me to turn.
"Nate… it's okay." She grabbed my hands, "You'll be warmer if we are close to each other."
And then what happened was something I will never forget.
Emma leaned in, wrapped her arms around me, and kissed me.
An explosion of all new colors.
Shades never before seen by my virgin eye.
Though it was only a peck, it was enough to change my life.
I loved this woman.
I wanted to be with her forever.
I love you.
I love you so much Emma Jones.
"Goodnight Nate."
"Goodnight Emma."
As we faded into slumber, we held hands, fingers interlocked, barely an inch between our bodies.
I never thought that the touch of another person could be so comforting.
I felt it.
I felt that I was finally able to achieve something.
Happiness.
It was beautiful.