January the twenty-seventh gifted me with Emily. She had bright blue-green eyes line with an untidy, caliginous black and wavy auburn hair that forever reached her shoulders. Every Saturday she would wait for me with a bouquet of daisies she picked herself and a box of heart-shaped chocolates. She told me to give them to the old lady that lived next door so that she wouldn't feel so alone. Emily always wore the same lacerated shirt - the one with the missing buttons, neatly ripped jeans and worn-out sneakers. They are comfortable, she would say. At least I'd never lose you in a crowd, I would always reply. And she would tenderly kiss me on the cheek. Every time.
February the twenty-eighth sat me next to Emily at our local cafe. Every Sunday we would share a stack of pancakes at our favourite table where we could come together in a strawberry and maple syrup kiss. Emily, with her snowy white top and caliginous jeans hid only a rainbow of colours beneath. Emily, who smiled so delicately was real. I decided this cafe would be my favourite place in the world. I decided I would always miss Emily when she wasn't around. Always.
March the twenty-second proved my thoughts about Emily being perfect. As we were taking the long way home we found a grey kitten with matted fur and bent whiskers. Emily picked him up and wrapped him in her own blue sweater - the one with the holes in the sleeves she made with her thumbs - and named him Lucky. As we continued walking she swore she would always love and that should would always take care of him; no matter what happened. She kissed the top of the kitten's head and whispered softly; the world is a big place and sometimes you'll get lost, but love is bigger and that's all that will ever matter. I asked her if she had enough to raise a kitten. She told me all she needed was her heart.
May the twelfth brought Emily and I to an opening in the woods where every star in the sky was visible. She awed at how beautiful the sky was and we named the constellation ourselves. Emily, slightly shivering in my arms held my hand with the biggest grin and asked me if I wanted to know why the sky was so amazing. I told her I did. She went on to tell me about how someone on the other side of the world would be looking at the same exact sky that we were. I decided this would be my new favourite spot in the world. I remembered what Emily said about the world being a bigger place and how sometimes we might get lost, but love is bigger and that is all that matters. I remembered the moment Emily's eyes fluttered shut as we fell asleep watching the many swirling galaxies beneath the many evergreen trees.
June the fifteenth found me curled and trembling beside Emily's naked body as we wove under her bedsheets. The way she looked at me with her eyes lined in black and flushed cheeks was immaculate. She slipped her fingers into my hair as she breathed my name. She was so delicate I was afraid I might break her breath. When she ceased she retrieved a box of chocolates from beneath her bed. She asked me if I would be hers forever. I told her I was hers the day we met.
July the third brought me a blue-skied morning, birds gently singing on the tin roof and Emily gently rasping at my door with a basket of strawberries and news I wish I had never heard. She told me the strawberries were the sweetest fruit she had ever tasted. Lucky the kitten was gently purring between Emily's feet when she told me she had been sick since February. I clenched my hands into fists but she easily unwrapped them and placed her fingers between mine. She was so strong. I looked into her eyes, now lined in red, and asked if she was going to be okay. I secretly prayed she would say yes. She said maybe.
August the eighth reassured me that a stack of pancakes could brighten my day no matter what. My stomach was content and Emily's fingers were locked between mine as maple syrup was trapped at the corners of her cherry red lips; I kissed them away from her icy cold skin. Emily, with her trembling hands and skinny wrists was still stunning. Emily, with her stitches and doctors on speed-dial was mine. I decided Emily's laugh would be the prettiest sound in the world. I decided I needed Emily and loved her with all my heart.
September the sixteenth reminded me of how much it hurts when you want to cry but you just. You just can't. Snow had fallen slowly throughout the week, forming a blanket on top of everything that existed. The wind that blew hurt my teeth. But then they came; tears rolled down my cheeks one after another and froze as they fell onto the pavement. My chest was heavy, I felt nauseated and I was terrified. I could hardly breathe. Three months is a long time she said. I asked her what I would do if something did happen. She told me the world was a big place and sometimes I might get lost, but love is bigger and that's all that matters. You'll always have my heart she said. I started praying for Emily every night.
December the tenth brought joy as Emily's eyes widened as she opened her birthday present. She told me it was beautiful and I leaned over to kiss her forehead. It was a photograph I had taken in the woods of millions of glittering stars against the black silhouette of the sky. I helped her place the frame on her bedside table so that it faced her and held her hand until a nurse came and told me I had to leave. That was the hardest part of my day - leaving Emily alone at night. I remembered to stop by her house to feed Lucky the kitten and as I stared into her empty room I was reminded of the first time she told me she loved me and her sweet vanilla lip balm.
December the twenty-seventh prompted me to visit Emily's fourteen-day-old grave. I replayed every memory of her I had in my head; her bright blue-green eyes, her wavy auburn hair that forever reached her shoulders. How she wore the same shirt - the one with the missing buttons, neatly ripped jeans and worn-out sneakers. And how her cheeks flushed when we wove under her bedsheets. Her epitaph was amazing; a heart-shaped stone with simple carved letters. I would visit her grave as often as I could. Every time I would read the words upon her grave one by one - life is short, but love is eternal.
And I knew she was right.
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