I shrug her off. Nothing is going to help. I take the glass that she placed on the island in front of me and fill it halfway with juice and take a sip in hopes she will drop the subject.
“Honey, please, come with us.”
The emotions have been bottling up for weeks, waiting to burst into flames, and apparently her persistence is the just the gasoline I needed. “No,” I say barely above a whisper.
“Please!”
I slam the glass down on the counter, causing juice to spill out. “No! Get that in your head—no! Do you need me to get a plane to write it in the sky? N-O! It hurts so fucking much, I don’t want to go there. I don’t need another reminder that he is not here. I hate him. I hate him for dying…for leaving me. He lied. He told me he would be careful driving home.” The tears have been unleashed; there is no stopping them now. “I’m never going to be happy again, don’t you see that? Don’t you get that? Every day I wake up is another day that Emmett doesn’t. I feel like I’m suffocating—fighting for air to breathe.” I slam my hands on my chest. “What about me? What about my feelings? Didn’t my feelings matter? He just up and died, left without saying goodbye. He left me here to pick up the pieces. I can’t…I can’t…”
I’m struggling to breathe in between my words. My father has since come into the room after hearing the commotion. I can see him standing in the doorway, not daring to say anything. “I don’t know how to be without him—I don’t want to be without him. I didn’t want him to go.”
Before I know it, my legs have given out and I’m sitting on the floor and my mother’s arms are around me. My mother’s tears freely flow down her face. I can feel them drop from her skin onto mine. She always tries to be strong, but she is giving in to my sadness.
“Oh honey, none of us did. That’s not how this works though. Life is cruel and unfair, and the reality we face is we never know when our time is up. We wish it was only when we are old and have lived a full life, not at only eighteen. I hate this for you, for all of us. I’m forced to sit here and watch my best friend grieve the loss of her son. My own kids have to learn to live a life without their other half. Sometimes when Zach comes home I still expect to see Em behind him. There is no greater pain for a parent than to watch their child hurt, and there’s not a damn thing I can do to make you feel better. I’ve spent these last few weeks watching you slip further and further away from us. I can’t lose you too. I wish I could bring him back.”
“Mommy, it hurts so much…make the pain stop.”
Her arms tighten around me. “I know, Danielle. I wish I could.” I allow myself to cry in her arms and seek comfort in her embrace. “This is why I don’t think you should be alone today. Please just come with us, Danielle.”
I push out of her arm and stand, then take the glass and throw it against the wall. “No!” I scream and storm past her and my father and run to the stairs to retreat to my room.
When I reach the bottom of the stairs, the front door opens and my brother walks in. “Dani? Are you okay?”
I ignore him; he should know the fucking answer to his question. Will I ever be okay again? I run up the stairs, slam the door, and crawl back into bed to forget about today. Pulling his photo off the nightstand and into my arms, I whisper, “Happy Birthday, baby.”
T hey say the worst day of loving someone is the day you lose them, but I’m not sure I believe that. Yes, it’s the worst feeling ever, but what about every day you wake up after? Those hurt worse. I’m only eighteen years old and already have enough heartache to last a lifetime. Each day that passes is just another day to wake up, exist, and go to bed. After 2.5 months of having work sent home, my parents forced me to return back to school, to try to return to normal and enjoy the last few months left before graduation. The school was understanding of the circumstances as long as I kept up the work, but my parents said I couldn’t stay holed up in my room forever. I didn’t see anything wrong with that plan though. There wasn’t much left for me anymore; all the plans I’d made for my future had revolved around Em, and I wasn’t sure what was next anymore.
Everyone is always staring at me. I know they talk about me behind my back, and I frankly don’t give a damn. I’m the girl left behind, the broken one, the sad one, the freak, the one who has emotional breakdowns in class. The first few weeks back at school, everyone hovered, asking if I was okay, how I was holding up, telling me how much they missed Em, how great a guy he was. Now, everyone will just ask how I am doing in passing and I just give a brief “I’m fine.” I know I’m lying, and I know they know I’m lying, but they know not to push since I won’t tell them the truth. I feel like they are all just waiting for me to break again, to lose it as if they just expect it from me. They don’t get it—they don’t get the emptiness I feel every day. Nothing they do or say will bring him back.
Each day is the same: I wake up, go to school, come home, push food around on my plate, then go to bed. I thank God I made it through the day, but I still end up crying myself to sleep. My usual wardrobe of jeans and bright-colored tops is replaced with yoga pants, T-shirts, and hoodies. Haylee will ride with me some days, but most days I prefer to be alone. On days that she does ride with me, we don’t listen to music or laugh like we used to. She is getting through the days just like I am. We’re not the same as we once were. I’m not sure we ever will be again.
While our friends are spending their senior year doing normal things—preparing for college, soaking up the last few months of high school, going to bonfires, parties, and games—I spend my time alone either in my room or on the swing on the front porch. I’ve pushed everyone who once mattered away, shutting them out. Spending time with old friends doesn’t heal me; it hurts. Spending time at places we used to hang out such as the ice cream shop or the mall just remind me of the memories of the past. It all just reminds me of what is lost, seeing happy couples and remembering I’ll never have that again. I don’t have the answers I want, the answers to know why this had to happen to us. I find myself falling further and further into this black hole of darkness. I don’t know how to describe it. I don’t feel, I don’t think. I’m just numb.
My parents tried to take me to see a therapist. In the beginning, they drove me and waited in the office, and then in the parking lot over time. There wasn’t anything I wanted to share with her. Eventually I stopped going. My parents had plenty to say, but eventually they, with the help of my brother, came to the conclusion that I wasn’t ready to talk.
But over time I did need to talk to someone. It didn’t matter who as long l as I got it out. It wasn’t healthy for me to keep it all bottled up inside is what they said. The therapist had suggested keeping a journal. I tried that too. For about two weeks I wrote in the journal as if I were writing letters to Emmett, talking about my day, asking questions, venting about everyone hovering. But during those two weeks, with no response from him, I continued to get angry. I’m not really sure what I expected since he was gone. How would he respond? It was the principle of the matter, I guess.
IT’S a typical Friday night here, with me alone in my room. Well, not totally alone, sometimes I hang out with Jack, Jim, or Jose. This time though, I was able to sneak a bottle of Mom’s wine up here. Tonight is the senior prom, and even though Haylee and some other friends begged me to attend, even going as a group, I just couldn’t do it. So, here I am sitting in my room, half a bottle of wine gone. I know it was probably a bad idea, but I’m not the best thinker these days. Mom had gone over to the Hankses’ house to see Haylee off and ended up staying to hang out while my dad went to Philly to see some sports game with Zach. They had both protested leaving at first, but I promised them I was fine and that I had a night planned for one: movies and Chinese takeout.
While yes, I do have a movie on and ordered way too much food for just one person, I find myself sitting on the bed. To the left of me is a photo of me and Emmett from prom last year. It was one of the photos I had taken from his room at the apartment. I loved that dress
—I had instantly fallen in love with it, but then I saw the price tag and thought it was better to move on. My mother had other ideas though; she convinced me to just try it on. As I walked out of the dressing room, the room went silent and the next thing I knew we were walking out of the store carrying a garment bag filled with that dress.
To my right is something a little more emotional—the card and box that Emmett had hidden in his desk drawer. I still haven’t opened it. Every day I stare at it on the nightstand. It’s like it’s taunting and teasing me, knowing once I open this, that’s it. I’m not sure if it’s nerves of the emotions swirling around with what tonight should have been or the amount of liquid courage running through my veins, but I reach out for the card and slide my fingers along the top to slice the envelope open.
As I pull the card out, my breath catches, and I try to swallow the lump of Chinese food that’s creeping up my throat. I flip the card open to see more of his chicken-scratch handwriting. I used to joke with him that he should be a doctor since his handwriting was so shitty. What I wouldn’t give to see his shitty writing.
Blinking back the tears, I read his handwritten message:
Cupcake,
Happy anniversary, baby girl! Can you believe it – 5 years? I can’t believe it because it seems like I loved you for a lifetime. I know these past few months apart have been rough. Having to always leave you tears me up inside, but we have the rest of our lives.
Shit, if only he knew the impact of his words now. Having him leave me in the way he did didn’t just tear me up, it full-on gutted me.
Here is only a little something I have planned. Looking at all these cheesy cards I just couldn’t decide which one to buy. But this spoke to me because the words couldn’t be more true. You will forever be my always. I love you, Emmett.
I look over to the other side of the card and read the inscription. “I loved you yesterday. I love you still. I always have. I always will. Happy Anniversary.” My eyes travel back to his note on the left, and my fingertips trace the writing. Placing the card on the bed, I allow myself a few moments to take it all in before I continue. There is no stopping the tears now. I could hear his voice reading these words, and I would give anything to still hear it outside of my own thoughts. I take a sip of the wine and tear at the wrapping paper. Once unwrapped, I find a long black velvet box. Fuck! I feel not only sadness filling me, but anger. To open it or not open it…of course I’m going to fucking open it.
Staring back at me is the most…shit, it hurts so much right now…the most stunning necklace I have ever seen. It is a silver-plated heart with a diamond in it and engraved in a beautiful cursive “Always.” Dropping the box on my bed, I pull my knees in and try to control my breathing. I run my fingers through my hair and pull at the ends, feeling heartbroken all over again.
I’m not sure how long I sit here wanting time to move quicker, but in fact it feels slower, possibly even stopped. My head is spinning, and my heart hurts. I clutch the necklace box and bring it to my chest before setting my head on the pillow., I look around and see every memory this room holds. It’s a prisoner for my broken life and fallen dreams. Emmett always talked about the big plans for us he had, but I doubt he ever thought my big plans would not include him.
I can’t stay here. I can’t do this. These people, every single one of them expect me to be something I’m not and to find the strength to move on. I can’t. I won’t. I don’t want to. Instead of sleeping, I pull the notebook out that I keep in the drawer on my nightstand and begin my great escape. What I need to do, possible places to go, what to pack…I make notes on all of it before I finally succumb to the exhaustion that has overtaken my body tonight. The wine of course was not a help.
As I allow myself to drift off to sleep, I continue to think about my future plans, and only one thing is certain: no one can know, not even Zach. Although, he has been pretty busy lately with new friends he’s making. Guess some of us can just forget.
This is the best for everyone. Everyone is so concerned on beginning to figure out how to move on that this is for the better. I’m not ready to move on from him, nor will I probably ever be. There is nothing left in this place for me, so it’s time to just move on from here.
I walk across the stage as they announce, “Danielle Kathryn Jacobs.” I look up to find our families cheering loudly. I scan the row and spot an empty seat next to them, and I’m reminded again that he isn’t here. I haven’t forgotten. Another moment we will never get to share.
To be perfectly honest, I wasn’t sure this day was going to come after everything we went through this year. Hell, it hasn’t even been a full year, just six months. In the past few weeks after deciding to leave after graduation, I spent a little bit of time with each of my family members including Haylee, knowing that my time with them was limited. I had hoped that in their mind I was finally coming out of it, whatever the darkness was that I fell into, and was ready to start dealing with reality.
By the time the last name is called and they announce that we have officially graduated, I am ready to get the hell out of here. In this place I have only had two identities: Zach Jacobs’s sister and Emmett Hanks’ girlfriend. It’s a life I have only ever known, but tomorrow I put it all behind me. Tomorrow I start a new life—one where I am only known as me, Danielle Jacobs. Leaving for a place where no one knows my past, no one knows the hurt, no one knows Emmett.
“We did it! We actually did it!” Haylee and I shout at the same time as we exit the stadium and search for our families. I am taken by surprise and scream when arms wrap around me and I am lifted off the ground. For a moment I think that it’s Emmett, but I know that is impossible. My brother’s voice cuts the sadness.
“You did it! I’m so proud of you, sis!”
He continues to spin me around in circles. “Zach, put me down. You’re gonna make me sick.” Those are the magic words. I am put back on my feet so fast, I almost fall over. My parents are next to pull me into their arms followed by Natalie and Brian. I am pretty sure they take enough photos to fill our entire yearbook and then some. The irony of all these photographs is that as of tomorrow, this is all they will have left.
I look around at the smiling faces and take a mental photo of this.
“Reservations tomorrow at 5:30 at Boatyard,” my dad shouts to everyone as we begin to make our way toward the parking lot.
As we reach the cars, I realize this will be the last time I see Natalie, Brian, and Haylee. I wrap my arms around Haylee’s parents.
“Thank you for everything. I love you both so much.”
“We love you too, Dani. And we are so proud of all you have accomplished.”
I turn to my best friend and wrap my arms around her and think for a moment I might not let her go. I pretend that is this is a hug just like every other hug and not goodbye.
“You’re going to squeeze the life out of me, D!”
I release her from my arms and laugh along with her.
“Sorry, I just can’t believe this day is finally here and gone. It seems surreal.”
“I know! No more high school! Woo! Now on to bigger and better things.”
“Yep. Crazy!”
My brother shouts from where he’s standing beside his Jeep, “Hey, D, are you riding back with Hails, or you wanna ride home with me?”
“Is it cool to ride back with you?”
“Yeah, hop in.” Zach gets in the driver’s side of the Jeep as I say goodbye to Haylee one last time.
“I’ll see you guys tomorrow,” Haylee shouts as she gets into her car and I walk toward my brother’s car.
“Thanks.” I get in and buckle my seat belt.
“Want to sit out back like old times? I figure that’s as good a way as any to celebrate the end of this chapter of your life.”
I nod. “I’d like that.”
If only he knew the truth behind that statement.
MY PARENTS and Zach left for the restaurant twenty minutes ago. I stood in my
bathroom with the shower running, telling them that I was running late and would meet them there. Little did they know that I would never make it there. Last night before going to bed, I sat out on the back deck with Zach just talking. We talked about the fall, and he tried to find out what was next for me after deferring college for the fall. I told him I wasn’t sure but would be spending the summer trying to figure that out, and that wasn’t a complete lie. I do plan to spend the summer figuring out what’s coming next, just not here.
I don’t know how much time I have before they’ll start calling, so I have to be focused and get this done quickly. When the coast is clear, I run downstairs and pull my SUV into the garage so I can load it up without worrying about someone passing by and possibly tipping my family off to my impending departure. I quickly grab the boxes I put together late last night and stored in my closet and throw my belongings in there: my clothes, photos, important documents, the money I’ve been withdrawing from my bank account over the past few weeks so my parents wouldn’t notice huge withdrawal amounts, mementos, and the rest of Emmett’s belongings that I’d packed up from the apartment.
A rush of memories fills my mind, and I struggle to fight back the tears. I know that come end of summer I would have been packing this room up to head to college, but it wasn’t final. I would still be able to come home when I wanted to and for holidays, but this is different. I need to start fresh and figure out what the new plan of my life will be without Emmett in it. Most eighteen-year-olds might not know their path either, but since I was thirteen, I had planned on only one path. It may have been naïve to think that I could have met my soul mate at birth and create our plans so young, but that was our life—there was nothing I wouldn’t have done for him and vice versa.
Maybe that was the issue, that our lives were consumed by each other that there was no other foreseeable end but heartbreak, but I just never expected this. That’s the thing with death, I guess—no one expects it. I mean, we all know that it’s inevitable, the only constant in life, but we are so caught up in our own worlds and problems that we have this thing where we think we’re invincible and death only comes to us at old age, not when people are just starting their lives.
I Never Planned on You Page 7