As She Comes

Where one ends, Another shall begin

"Let me just tell you bluntly. Life is merely a fraction of what you make of it and a whole lump some of what shitty situations you are placed into. Where is there to even start from? Abandonment issues? Addiction? Crippling mental state?"

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"I'm afraid that closes our session out today ms. Lawrence. Check back in on Tuesday, sound good to you?" Shuffling his books and sighing away every issue I had rested upon his lap.

"Yeah...Tuesday." I replied in what I attempted to mask dissatisfaction.

—

"Adrian I don't understand why you even go? I feel like I do more emotional supporting then he does fixing. Can you at least consider finding something more suitable? It's worth looking for." Ally grumbled over the phone.

* For more of my life then I'd like to admit, Ally has been more a saviour then a friend. She's been through too much of it.. but she saved me through a lot of it.

"I know, but it's the only therapist covered! I can't afford to look beyond free at this rate. Some people have this thing called a budget...it's me but instead I have a budget of $0.00. Plus, it's nice to at least have someone to project it too that I know is truly not mentally or emotionally affected what so ever." I replied in attempts to lighten what I knew would be in store next.

"Adrian don't you go making it sound like I don't let you project to me! There are certain things I just really don't know how to fix and I think looking for someone that requires a dollar or two more is worth looking for." Ally replied. She was always so hopeful, I envied it far too often. Though in these particular settings. Dollar amount, affordable therapy, and financial advice was somewhere Ally didn't quite share the same lens as me.

Among many unfortunate roles my life has played out, being thrown out at the ripe age of 15 was one of them. I struggled for a majority of my life. Speaking honestly life at home was comparable to living in a stable. Finding something of my own even if it had been a cardboard box was unimaginably better then what was the four walls and a roof I called home for 15 years of my life.

Balancing on the streets for a collection of months until I could afford a small one bedroom apartment for myself. This place was nothing to brag about but to me it was like heaven on earth. Though financially, it prioritized my life a lot.

I began serving at a small diner off of Hampton street, one of the most top tier shopping areas of the city. Though the diner had some equal ground between wealthy bachelors and business women along the other side of the spectrum including the homeless and barely scratching the surface kinds of people. Tips varied...dramatically, as one could assume. Though in experience nothing quite puts me in quite a good mood like Joseph from Rafter street. Joseph was a homeless begger. The name truly doesn't ring well, but he was nothing but sunshine in the diner. Joseph lent me his only change to get myself food when things were rough. I had owed everything to that man. Thus I protected him always, he was rough around the edges so he would tend to cause some upset faces in the diner but nothing an apple fritter couldn't fix for Joseph.

The diner is where I met Ally. Ally lives with her mother in the apartment above mine. Her mother became terminally ill when she was young and she started at the diner young. She knew the place and the people like the back of her hand, she taught me everything. Though Ally came into a lot of money when we turned 18. Her father who wasn't very present in her life left her everything. He was a jet setting business man. He had cars, penthouses, soared trips around the world. He left all that was his legacy to her, and without question she sold the cars, the penthouses, turned away the trips. Ally wanted very little with her fathers money, it never felt right spending money from someone who was practically a stranger to her. She kept the oldest car he owned. The only one she remembered as a young girl, she tells me the rusted out navy blue jeep was the only thing she could stomach keeping because she was apart of this objects history. For whatever it's worth, it meant something to her that kept her spirits so high. She could afford to not work at the diner but she always wanted to keep money a secret. A part of me believes she just truly didn't want to accept what was his was now hers. Though she enjoys the luxuries of affording adequate medication and health care for her mother, she really doesn't use the money. All the power to her I guess...