I Always Love You

I walked into my favorite café to grab a small breakfast and my regular cup of joe before work, just as I always do at 6:45 AM on the weekdays.

"Good morning, Jody!" I called to the middle-aged hostess who always served me during the week.

"And a good morning to you, sweetie. I'll have your breakfast right up" she responded as she poured me a cup of coffee.

My breakfast came shortly, and I watched the news as I ate. It was the same, sad, political divisiveness that seemed to be the mainstay of our society. It wasn't even news. It was just dirt, insults, and opinions hurled at opposing people. I fished around in my jacket for my wallet. I couldn't remember where I put it; I was wearing a slightly heavier jacket because it was one of those chillier Connecticut fall days.

Before I could fish out the money, a friend of mine came rushing in, her face a mix of raw emotions.

"Mandi, what's wrong?" I asked worriedly.

She wasn't just looking worried. She was sobbing and nothing was coming out intelligible. But I knew what the problem was.

"It's her! What's wrong Mandi?" I asked, starting to panic a little.

Jody just looked slightly shocked and concerned.

"Can I pay you tomorrow?" I asked Jody, not thinking that it was Friday and I wouldn't see her 'til Monday.

"Of course, Jimmy, I know you're good for it."

I raced off with Mandi.

I couldn't tell where she was going. It was becoming clear we were heading towards a bad part of town, and I feared the worst. Mandi finally slowed, still crying softly, and turned into an alleyway. The alley had trash strewn haphazardly about with a few vandalized dumpsters and puddles of what I hoped was just water. Then I saw her.

She was huddled in a corner with her arms wrapped around herself, shivering a little. She looked exhausted. It was clear she had been abusing hard drugs again. I approached her slowly, like a frightened dog. Her eyes glanced up at me briefly, then darted away in shame.

She used to be an amazing woman. A leader. One who stood for freedom and justice. She based her decisions on reason. And she had grown powerful and had made many friends. But the power went to her head. She abused it, though she still justified her actions. She clung to her justifications and no longer used reason to govern her actions. When she started suffering from the drugs, any time that I tried to help her she reacted extremely emotionally, sometimes violently.

"Hey, hey, come here" I said calmly and assuring.

She shook her head no. After a minute, she whimpered her response:

"I won't change. This is who I am. The whole world hates me for it."

"I still see greatness in you," I told her truthfully, putting my arms around her and letting her head rest on my chest, "I always love you, America."
NefariousDrake NefariousDrake
22-25, M
1 Response Dec 15, 2012

Very, very good... And so true! There is a rehab called peace, there is medication called compassion and care, there is a roof for shelter called equality...