This has been a horrific day...miserably hot and brutally emotional. Logan and I had a good talk, which...while it was nice that we weren't fighting, it was upsetting to me for the finality of things and watching the concrete settle on our separation and impending divorce. We both know it's the correct and healthy thing to do, but it hurts nonetheless. At several points today, I really had to fight the tears, and a couple of times I lost.
I also had to go to the grocery store, which was a nearly-traumatic experience in and of itself (I had forgotten it was the first of the month, and I typically avoid groceries like the plague on the first). Wall-to-wall people, short tempers everywhere, and standing in line for half an hour made the perfect recipe for an even more sour mood. So I figured I would treat myself and the kids to a Frosty from Wendy's to cool us down and hopefully cheer me up.
Since we only have A/C in one room at home, Wendy's was like sitting in an icebox......which, of course, was absolutely lovely. I was still fighting tears after ordering the ice cream when I saw a man come in the side door out of the corner of my eye. He was young, maybe 18-20, filthy dirty, and sunburned a deep red. When he shifted his backpack, his shirt exposed a stark tan line around his neck. He pulled out some crumpled ones and change and ordered himself lunch.
I immediately felt like the biggest, most self-centered brat on the planet. Here I was wading through my lake of depression and self-absorption while people like this were forced outdoors in 100+ degree weather with only the possessions on their back. Who would have bigger reason to cry?
Due to a freeze on my financial accounts (I purchased something online, and since I used a check to pay because my debit card expired, my bank thought it was "fraud", God love 'em, and froze my accounts....just, ya know, icing on the cake right now), all I had for cash that day was a hundred bucks. I had spent ninety on groceries, five on the Frosty's, and I had one five dollar bill left in my wallet. No singles, little change.
I stopped the young man as he was filling up his drink for the second time and asked if he was homeless and when he turned around, I felt the wind leave my lungs. I'll have to check in, oh, about 14 years, but this boy looked exactly like my John if he were 18, tanned, and dirty. Same snub nose, same blue eyes, same wide forehead, same row of small, even teeth, same dirty blonde hair...it was shocking. He looked at the floor when he said yes, and looked shocked when I gave him the five in my wallet....and I wish I had more to give him.
When I was driving home, I saw him a few blocks down, drinking from his Wendy's cup and crossing a four-lane road heading towards Military Highway. Sweat was already beading again on his forehead. I almost turned the car around and brought him home- we don't have A/C in the whole house, but he could have taken a cool shower, I could have washed his clothes and given him a sandwich and given him a ride to a shelter or at least one of those "cooling stations" they've opened up. But my fear of what society has told me he might do made force my eyes forward and keep driving. I drove away from someone's son and left him in sweltering heat, and now the guilt is just poured on top of the rest of my misery like a fat dallop of gravy, smothering me.
I'm making the kids dinner soon, and I'll be ready to turn in and press the reset button and hope tomorrow dawns cooler, more manageable, and with another chance to do the right thing. For tonight...I wallow.
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