finding permanence

41: Sam

My Christmas Eve started with no plans besides work and movies and no I've found myself getting ready for a day full of stress. I don't know why I thought it was a good idea to let Anna convince me into volunteering downtown, but her other suggestion was swinging by her place to meet her boyfriend. In all honesty, I find it hard to believe that Anna just goes out and spends her free time at the soup stand for the homeless. But it's hard for me to turn down the offer as we used to get our Christmas Eve meals at the same place when I was living with her.

We've been exchanging messages and I've gotten to know a lot about her, but it's always easy to open up when you're behind a screen.

She fell into drugs not long after her brother passed and claims she got clean a year after she parted ways with me. That first year she was the lowest she'd ever been and only when her little sister came for a surprise visit to find her half dead in the bathtub did she start taking things seriously. She knew if she kept on in a similar manner, she'd end up killing herself and she promises that she wanted to find me the moment she got clean and apologize.

She recalled her time in rehab and there were moments when she considered ending her life because without the high, she felt miserable. Her beauty daughter kept her going though, she said. Whenever she got into that mindset, she'd look at the few pictures of our time together and it gave her a reason to live.

Mike, her current boyfriend, had been in the facility when she admitted herself. She fell in love with the fellow addict. He was released before her but living without him was too painful and since she didn't have any family pushing her to stay, she discharged herself a week after his departure.

She spent 2 months in the facility and when I looked up what the recommended time in rehab for an addict was, she fell a month short. When I mentioned this to her, she assured me that Mike and her hold each other to staying clean; that she has a good support system with him and it's kept her from falling back into old habits.

Christmas Eve morning, I woke up and didn't want to leave bed. Most mornings, I have no issue getting up bright and early, but Anna signed us up for the breakfast shift and there's still a lingering dread when I think about seeing her.

I'm starting to understand Anna and her decisions which worries me because in the back of my head I still wonder how much I can trust her. From what she's told me, her life hasn't been easy, and I can have sympathy for that. When she talked about the loss of her brother, she told me all about the time she had with him when he was still here. Stories about them running to the lake on summer days and him buying her ice cream from the truck that passed through their neighborhood with money he got for his birthday displayed their close bond. I don't have siblings, but I know what it feels like when someone leaves. People cope with pain in different ways. I'm coming to the understanding that everyone is unique to one another. I think one way and am dead set that it's the right way because it's right for me specifically. At the time, Anna thought she was right to chase a high because it took her pain away. It might have been a mistake, but she was only trying to find a way to move on without her brother.

My drive to downtown was short and I focused on my music instead of what to say when I see Anna. I want the conversation to be natural, not rehearsed.

Anna was already behind the serving table with an apron and plastic gloves on. Her black hair was tied back into a high ponytail, and she wore a headband with Christmas trees decorating it.

"Samantha!" I recoil at my full name but place a forced smile on my face as I approach her. She scurries to her bag and pulls out another headband, this one with candy canes. "I brought you a holiday headpiece, my friend from work makes them and since you love peppermint hot chocolate so much, I thought this one was fitting."