*Because everyone thinks their love story is the first, best and most romantic - I give you the epic tale of 'Emmy Loves Chachi'...a drama-filled, chubby girl meets punk boy, unlikely, love story in serial form.
The Front Porch & Meeting Chachi
After our night spent talking in Matt's drive-way we began to hang out each and every day outside of work. Sometimes there were other friends present. Julie, Lolly and others from work. Sometimes it was just Matt and myself. Sometimes we hung out with Matt's brother and sometimes with Matt's good friend Bryan.
We watched movies together, grabbed food at the local Village Inn, took epic drives with the windows rolled down and amazing music playing. But regardless of who we were with, where we went or what we did, each of these nights ended the same way. On my Mom's front porch.
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| (my Mom's front porch where we talked) |
My mother was redecorating a certain room in her house and had large rolls of new carpeting on her covered front porch. Each night Matt and I ended up leaning against those large carpet rolls and talking. As with the night in the car, our conversations included everything. Our likes and dislikes, our past experiences, our hopes, our political views, funny stories and everything in between. We lay side by side, never touching, and learned about the very core of what made us who we then were.
It was during these nights that I first began to open up to Matt about my own abusive childhood, something many members of my immediate family did not know the details of. During the past few weeks he had quickly turned into one of my best friends and I trusted him...completely. I cried, poured my heart out and sought understanding about those unhappy childhood years. Matt listened, supported and clarified in a way I had not before experienced. These terrible secrets I had spent a lifetime hiding from others in an effort to not appear "broken" or "damaged" tumbled out of me when they found a listening ear leveled by kindness, understanding and goodness.
During those times when memories filled my eyes with tears and made my voice shake, Matt would gently pull me to him, wrapping one arm around me while I spoke. This was the only physical contact we had and it was one born from pure compassion. I came to know his warmth and the curve of his arm in a setting untainted by dating games and forced flirtatious proximity. Matt's gentle words started chipping away at long held beliefs that I was somehow to blame. Slowly, but surely, he planted in my mind the kernel of a thought that I was innocent and good and untainted by those abuses.
Along with those serious talks came light and funny ones. We were friends who greatly enjoyed being together, shared a common sense of humor and felt passionate about many of the same things. It became clear that on things which really matter, ideas about goals and education, child rearing and life matters, we were oddly in sync. Agreeing sincerely on the topics that mean so much more than if you like 90's rap music (which you know I do, yo).
Each night our discussions went on until chirping birds heralded the dawn. As the sky lit Matt would rush home and get a few hours of sleep before we both headed to work in the afternoon.
It was during these nightly talks that I realized that my silly crush was turning in to something much more. A deeply rooted friendship and trust that I began to think would be wonderful if it could ever become something more. But how could dreamy Matt Ahern ever dream of being with someone like me; a chubby, loud girl from a broken home? I could not imagine a world where that happened.
* * *
The 4th of July meant a day off of work and time to hang out with a group of friends. We spent the day at bar-b-ques and parties and as night began to fall our little group gathered together to find a decent firework display. Matt, Lolly, Julie and myself hopped into Julie's car and headed to different hot spot in Logan, looking for a place to sit and watch the yearly fire works that would light the sky over the east bench.
As we wandered through cores of people on picnic blankets we heard the stranger after stranger call out to Matt, referring to him as "Chachi". Matt was in school at Utah State University and knew a lot of people from campus. Those who knew him referred to him exclusively as Chachi, a name his work friends were unaware of. We laughed and teased him about it as the sun began to set and we still we unable to find a good spot.
Suddenly and without warning Chachi suggested we head to his house in Layton (a 50 minute drive South) for their fireworks display which could be seen from his parent's backyard. We all agreed and then piled into Julie's car (with Buke in tow...yep, super awkward) and drove down the I-15 towards Layton. We caught the fireworks display from our car as it was lighting the entire sky. Afterwards we headed to Matt's house, where I met his parents. They seemed normal....very different from my own family. I really loved that.
As we left Layton that night I had no idea that just a few days later I would be crashing their house without Matt and plotting to kill their family bird.
