About 2 months ago I wrote about meeting a young man who needed my help. We talked about art, philosophy, prejudice, and his jail time. He would draw and I would help.
Thursday 8 AM. He talked, I listened. In hindsight he traded his time with a prison counselor for Starbucks and an artist. I tried to help. We set up times to meet, every week same time.
Thursday 8 AM. Alone, looking up every time someone walked too close to my table. He never showed. A text message stating he slept in, forgot. Annoyed, I text back same time next week? A sincere yes, sorry. All is forgiven.
Thursday 8 AM. I walk in the cold and all I can think is, he better show. I don't have time for this. I show and he doesn't. A Phone call about meeting a lawyer about some priors. I plead to an outside silence to give me peace of mind and not write people off. My heart softens yet again, same time next week?
Thursday 8 AM. I get ready. Clothes on, shower. Ugh 7:30 AM. Phone rings. He's at another Starbucks, won't be meeting. Wasn't sure if I'd show so he skipped. I sit defeated. Saying I think that's it. A text shows 1 day later. I take 3 days to answer it, going back and forth in my head. I reply, same time next week? He's happy again and I feel strung out by it all, but maybe it helps someone, doesn't have to be me this time.
Thursday 8 AM. I sit alone once again this morning. I draw crap. Depressed. Damn you for making me do this. I text good luck, I cannot keep doing this. I hope you find your path. Stay good. A text as I hang my head in shame on the walk home. " I am I actually am on my way to Arcadia. I have a mental health appointment."
As I sit I contemplate. Was I supposed to do more? Help how? Am I even mentally prepared to help him with bigger problems than I have ever or will ever have?
When do you say enough?
or
You are not my problem and I am not your solution.
should you ever?
I sit unsure.
And I believe this is how my story ends.