After experiencing a life-altering tragedy, Emersyn feels as if her world has collapsed. Attempting to accept her new reality, Emersyn wonders how she can possibly keep going when it feels like her life ended months ago. Until she meets Haven, and s...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
Winter looms in the air as the seasons quickly change.
The trees fall bare as the weather turns the scenery from vivid colors to shades of brown. A bite clings to the wind that leaves cheeks flushed and jackets a necessity—chilly, but not quite yet freezing. As the earth rotates further from the sun and everything around me shifts, I feel a shift beginning to take place within myself as well.
Sharing the truth with Haven leaves me feeling so much lighter. I feel . . . relieved. Free. It's as if I have been reborn, now devoid of the weight that had been crushing me before. With no secrets holding me back from the freedom of being allowed to express every shade of myself, I am truly able to exist shamelessly. No longer having to worry about what Haven would think of me if she knew the truth allows us to strengthen our bond. Previously, I had feared Haven would be afraid to grow close to me if she knew about my past, but I find this worry to hold no truth.
Haven is a saving grace. All of my fears of what may change between us if I shared my truth have faded into oblivion. I had been worried that she would treat me differently if she knew; that her eyes would regard me with pity, that her touch would turn cautious, as if I am something fragile that could easily be broken. However, this could not be further from reality. Haven does not treat me any differently after learning about Dad, except for lovingly allowing me to reveal the parts of myself that I had previously kept hidden. And it is nice, being able to talk about him with somebody I trust. I suppose I hadn't realized how much I missed being able to share stories of him until I no longer had someone to confide in. However, talking about Dad with Haven stirs a joy within me I never would have expected.
I think of this newfound trust I have for her as Haven crosses her legs atop the couch as the two of us sit in my living room. She is at my side as we look over photos of my father. I had first thought that sharing the memories I have of my dad would be too painful to bear, but I find that talking about him actually does the opposite. It is nice to remember him, more healing than I imagined it could be.
"You look just like him," Haven muses. She leans forward, her head on my shoulder as she eyes the photo I hold in hand. It is a more recent photo, taken just before the illness overtook my father. He is smiling brightly, one arm looped around my shoulders as I stand laughing next to him. I believe the photo to be taken just before I was to start freshman year.
I laugh softly at Haven's commentary. "I definitely got his looks," I admit. "Most people are shocked when they see Mom and I together and realize we're related. But when you see my dad, it all makes sense."
Haven giggles. "You look like your mom, too. Just in different ways."
I shrug as I shift the photo to one of my father holding me as a newborn in the hospital. Haven squeals, rushing to gush over how adorable and tiny I am. We sit together mulling over photos for a while, and soon the pictures shift to memories that are harder to face. There is a picture of my father the day he moved into his first hospital room after the illness began battling him, smiling for the camera despite how thin and pale he had become. The last photo taken of him at home, just months before he passed. A picture where he is almost unrecognizable, his features sunken and hollow, his head full of thick dark hair nearly completely faded.
