As I was driving home tonight after enjoying dinner with two of my best friends, I had this overwhelming craving for a milkshake. This happens frequently because, honestly, I haven’t met a form of ice cream I don’t love. But, what doesn’t happen as often is the emotional response I had tonight.

I’m not sure if the emotions I had during dinner just spilled over or if my brain just decided tonight was the night to have emotional reactions to everything things. Either way, I started to cry over my cup because all I could think about was the number of times Emily and I enjoyed milkshakes together.

“You’ve Never Been To Cookout?”

My memory is a bit fuzzy about fine details, but I remember a day when I scheduled an individual therapy session two hours before our DBT group that week. I had no idea what I was going to do with my hour to kill between the two events, but it was 11:00 am, so I figured lunch would be a good choice. Where would I get lunch? To be determined.

Well, that is, until Emily walked into the office suite. She was there an hour early, for what reason I don’t recall. Within a few minutes of talking to her, though, we were on our way to Cookout. Apparently it was some huge scandal that I’d never been there, but she made sure to remedy that.

As we sat together, enjoying burgers and shakes, we talked about a range of topics related to our lives and our mental health. I remember looking at her in complete and utter admiration, and she made a similar comment about me. Even though we’d each lived very different lives, we’d each experienced many hardships and painful moments. Yet, there we were, both still standing, continuing to work on ourselves.

Milkshakes Don’t Bring Girls To The Yard

Sometimes it’s quite hilarious to look back at moments Emily and I shared before we started dating because the hints were there all along. Yet, somehow, we were both oblivious to them. And the night in 2020 this story comes from was no exception.

Emily and I made plans to grab dinner at Chuy’s. As usual, we both enjoyed a couple drinks, meaning I was still completely sober while Emily was too intoxicated to drive. It worked out, though, because she needed to grab a dessert so she could check off the meal challenge her treatment team had assigned for that week.

So, for whatever reason, as decided to grab milkshakes at Steak-N-Shake.

I was dying to tell her how I felt about her that night. I had felt the words trying to bubble their way out during the entire duration of dinner, yet I couldn’t find the courage to just say it. As we waited for our milkshakes in the drive-thru, though, I felt like I could genuinely do it if I had the right moment to say it.

Once shakes were in hand, I drove around to find a semi secluded area in the Target parking lot. I parked the car, removed my seatbelt, and turned towards her. Here was my moment to shoot my shot, for better or worse, and hope it wouldn’t cost our friendship.

As soon as I looked at her, though, I turned into a puddle of goo.

My incredible speech about how I felt like she was the one and had felt that way since the TWLOHA concert the previous year completely vanished from my brain. Instead, all I could think to say was: “Have you, uh, ever just really wanted to kiss someone?”

Needless to say, she did not pick up what I was putting down that night. I went home convinced I would never have the courage to tell her how I felt.

Bombings Call For Five Guys

It was Christmas morning, 2020. The kids and I had just blown up an indoor tent they got from my brother and we were hauling in blankets, snacks, and books to read as we waited for their dad to pick them up so they could go open presents with him. I was completely present in the moment… until I got a text from Emily.

“Are you and the kids okay? Are you safe?”

I was so confused, so I asked for clarification. Turns out Emily heard about the Nashville bombing before I did, and even though I was safely at home in Murfreesboro, she was concerned. Of course, as I texted back and forth with her, all AT&T services turned off. I no longer had Internet or cell reception to message her back.

After the kids left, I went to Panera and let her know through Facebook I was still okay, just without a way to use my cell phone and only able to access Wi-Fi if I went somewhere else. I told her I was considering booking a hotel room so I could wrap up some freelance work, but I needed a way to call options to determine which ones still had Internet service. Of course, she not only offered to call hotels for me, but asked if she could also come crash there when she got back from Knoxville later that day.

That night, we went down the road to Five Guys for dinner. And, because it’s Five Guys, we had to get milkshakes.

Post Rehearsal Treats

Emily and I loved playing our flute and oboe together. So much so that she found a community orchestra that was just starting up and looking for musicians. The rehearsals became our Monday night routine, and it filled my heart with such joy.

One night after practice, I looked at her and said, “I have an idea….”

I explained to her that you could make any milkshake boozy by just adding some Bailey’s Irish Cream. I then said we could hit a liquor store and Cookout on a roundabout way home, and that was all it took. We had a lot of fun unwinding once we got home that night, and I loved every minute of it.

I Can’t Give Up Milkshakes

As I cried over my milkshake before writing this post, I tried to imagine a world in which I gave up things that made me think of Emily. However, I soon realized that would not only be impossible, but highly impractical as well.

Yes, milkshakes make me think of Emily. But so does literally everything else in this world. The number of Emily stories I’ve shared in the past two weeks alone is more than enough to prove that she’s connected to absolutely everything I could ever possibly see, hear, touch, smell, or taste. There’s no point in giving up milkshakes just to avoid painful moments. Doing so would be futile.

I cried several times this evening, especially as I tried to explain to my dear friends how I constantly worry about the way in which my current life impacts my past (and vice versa). I told them that each time I take a step forward in my present life, I feel the gap between Emily and myself increase. Because each breath I take now is one that does not include her within the story, at least not in the way she was front in center with each of the milkshake stories I mentioned above.

As one of my friends pointed out, though, the time I spent with Emily will never vanish. It can’t be overwritten or replaced. As my other friend pointed out by sharing his own past, part of me will always love Emily and long for her, even if it doesn’t always make sense.

I would never willingly give up milkshakes. They’re too delicious to me, and I know that giving them up wouldn’t change how I feel about them. This same rule applies to Emily, because she is a significant piece to my story, a piece that I very much needed to get to where I am today.