I’ll Meet Her Someday

She’ll be a scientist – a chemist, maybe, or a neurologist. Her hair will be black and her eyes green, with a smattering of freckles across her nose. Emelia, her parents call her, but she’ll go by Emmy with anyone she’s really close to, and she’ll have no idea how beautiful she is. Maybe because she has curves society has taught her to hate, or because the bulk of her beauty comes from an inner light that’s impossible to photograph; so when she looks at herself, it’s invisible. She’ll be the kind of woman who draws you in to listen to her soft voice, the kind who spreads enthusiasm across her life like a kid spreads butter on toast, messily but honestly. I won’t be able to resist loving her, though I’ll have reasons to try. She’ll keep me at a distance, slow to trust, and it’ll be a year before she introduces me to her parents. She’ll say it’s normal for it to be hard to say I love you, and I’ll be afraid I’m alone in it. Sometimes I’ll feel that. Alone, even beside her, when she slips away into a dream and I know she’s thinking complex equations that I can’t share. But then she’ll turn to me and smile, and I’ll know I never have to be alone again. That’s the kind of woman I’ll love, when I meet her someday.

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