I remember the way she looked, so young. So much like the mirror, fifteen, maybe sixteen years ago. I pick up my pen. I think, what would I tell her, if I knew she'd hear it?

I was only a kid
When I said goodbye to you
Ten summers ago
But it feels like yesterday
Lost, scared and alone
Nothing I could give to you
I tried, I really did
But I couldn't find another way


Then, I was young, I was foolish. I thought I was all that and so much more. He, he was a new guy at school, didn't know my story. He was fabulous, but it was a surface beauty only. I know I made mistakes. He was one of the biggest. Was she?

And I want and I need
Somehow to believe
In the choice I made
Am I better off this way?

He never knew the consequences of that December fling. He swept me up, out of the cold, and, I thought, warmed me inside. But that love was like the marshmallows he taught me to put in cocoa, sweet while it lasts, but insubstantial and fleeting. Soon, all that was left was froth, in the form of this fight or that.

I can hear the voice inside my head
Saying you should be with me instead
Every time I'm feeling down, I wonder
What would it be like with you around?

I thank God I was pulled from him, after my parents came in that night. His soon came, but they didn't care. I remember them saying, "At least you didn't get her pregnant. Everybody knows you can't get pregnant the first time. Unless she's a whore, she's safe." Months later I cursed them, his mother in particular, for those words. My parents sent me to Canada, to my aunt and uncle. There were so many trees, so many creatures, there. So wild, and so...free.


So I, I made my way
Cold and roaming in the wild
I'm forever changed
By someone I never knew

After the summer, I moved to Florida, to live with my cousins and their friends at boarding school. I met Emmett. He was a student from the Canada, and he loved that country, like me. We bonded over stories about Saskatoon berry pies, and smoothies. We both loved those to distraction. After a time, he confessed he loved me to distraction, too. For the last year or so of high school, we lived the American Dream.

Now I've, I've got a place
I've got a husband and a child
But I'll never forget
What I've given up in you

Our son was born five years ago, as of last month, the fifth, to be exact. His golden birthday.... Not that he's old enough to appreciate it yet. Hm. On mine, I got a gift for each year I was alive, and one was a ring. I love that ring.... He started school this year. What would her grades be like, I wonder? Would she be like me, studious and quiet? Or like her father, loud, and boisterous? I hope she's happy. That people appreciate her, for more than just the beauty pageants she can win for them, the trophies in her name she can put on their wall. The proof that, yes, you have lovely genetics—oh, yes. They can't use that last one. Still, I hope she's not a trophy daughter.

And I want; I need
Somehow to believe
In the choice I made
Am I better off this way?

I went for my walk to the school yesterday, to pick up Emmie Jr. As we walked back home together, in the middle of the story about how Robbie was mean and pushed too much, I saw her. She was with two people obviously her parents, yet just as obviously not related to her. She was smiling. Laughing. The perfect little blue eyed-blonde. How I have cursed those same unruly curls, yet blessed the shockingly black eyelashes that rim those piercing, crystal clear azure eyes. She's tall, willowy. She'll have a grand figure in about a year or two.

I can hear the voice inside my head
Saying you should be with me instead
Every time I'm feeling down, I wonder
What would it be like with you around

Her parents are so blessed to have her, to love her. She's lovely. If she's like me, she'll be terribly—or wonderfully—mischievous. I hope, if she is, it won't be squeezed out of her. Everybody needs some irreverence in their life. I'd have loved her, if I could have kept her. I did love her. Do I still?


And I want, I need
Somehow to believe
In the choice I made
Am I better off this way?

Oh, dear. 2:30. I put down my pen. I have to leave soon to pick up Emmie. Maybe I'll leave early.... Yes, I think I will. Maybe I'll see her while I'm out....

AN: Well. There you go. I may eventually write more of Rose and Emmett's story. The proposal is very sweet, it's beautiful. R&R, please!