Dear Life(13)

“Me too. But I do feel bad at times. I feel like I’m intruding on your new engagement.”

“You’re fine, don’t even worry about it. Matt and I have been together for far too long, you’re not interrupting anything.” She pulls away and looks me in the eyes. “I do want to talk to you about something.”

“Okay,” I reply suspiciously, not sure what she wants to talk about.

“I’ve been thinking about our conversation we had last night, how this is an opportunity for you to step out of your comfort zone and really experience life.”

“Yeah.” It’s true. Even though I’m terrified, this might be a golden opportunity to reinvent myself, to really break out of my shell.

“I agree.” Excitingly fidgeting she continues, “My friend, Hollyn, is starting this program next week. It’s called Dear Life and it’s designed to help you face what’s holding you back in life, break free, and move forward. To let go of your past, perceived faults, failures, shortcomings, losses, and learn how to live again. I don’t know.” She shrugs. “It might be something kind of great for you. Here, let me pull up the website.”

Amanda flips open her iPad and starts typing away in the browser, meanwhile, two words hit me hard.

Break free.

By no means did my grams hold me back. She provided for me, educated me, and gave me a beautiful life, but there is so much more out there. I’ve already found that out in the few days I’ve been staying with Amanda.

For one, there is love. Real love. Not movie love which I’ve consumed my entire life. But real-life love where two individuals come together and share each other’s passions, their faults, and their accomplishments.

I want that.

There is an entire world I never knew existed outside the little five-block radius I previously called home. There is food I want to try, places I want to see, people I want to meet, but getting out there, breaking free, I have no clue how to do it.

“Here.” Amanda hands me her tablet and goes back to stirring the sauce.

I look at the website with its vivid colors and lively pictures of people laughing and smiling. What would it feel like to be one of those people? To have friends? Comradery with others.

“I don’t know,” I say nervously. “It looks like it’s for people who might be going through a tough time.”

“It’s for everyone,” Amanda states soothingly. “Anyone can join who wants to make a change.”

“But what about a job? I don’t have any money. I can’t mooch off you forever.”

“I don’t want that either.” Amanda turns around and hands me an envelope that was on the counter. “You were supposed to get this three weeks ago when you turned twenty-one.”

Flipping the envelope, I questioningly glance at Amanda. “What is this?”

“Open it up.” She nods at the envelope, not giving me any clue.

I take no time finding out and tear the envelope open to find a check resting inside with my name on it for fifty thousand dollars. Eyes wide, mouth open, I ask, “What is this?”

“I got one too when I turned twenty-one. Apparently the father we share thought it would be fitting to invest in us when we were young.”

“This is mine? All of it?”

“All yours, sweetie.”

“But, I’ve never had money before,” I say in disbelief. Amanda chuckles as the door to their townhome opens.

“Looks like we need to open a bank account then.”

“I guess so.” I sit on the kitchen bar stool staring at my check when Matt walks into the kitchen, his tie loosened from around his neck, and the sleeves of his dress shirt rolled up.

“That was a fun day,” Matt says with a sarcastic sigh, reaching into the fridge and pulling out a small drink container full of milk. From above the fridge, he grabs a giant tub of protein mix and starts scooping powder into his milk.

“Hey, we are going to eat soon,” Amanda chastises.

“Don’t worry, honey, I plan on eating too. I have about fifteen hundred calories I still have to consume.”

Matt has been trying to bulk up before the wedding. His plan is to pack on muscle and weight and then to shred two months before the wedding. Amanda thinks it’s ridiculous since he’s built like Zac Efron, and therefore meant to have a smaller frame. Now that I think about it, he looks like Zac Efron too, a man I’ve recently become familiar with thanks to the wonderful world of Google.

Still reeling about the check in my hand and the opportunity to maybe join a program to help me explore, I ask Matt, “Not a good day?”

“No,” he shakes his head. “Too much heavy shit for me.”

Clearing her throat, Amanda asks, “Everything okay with, um, your player?”

“No,” Matt shakes his head. “But I talked with the Hal, the General Manager, and the um, player,” Matt glances over at me, trying to be discreet, “he’s going to start that Dear Life program. He’s spent some time thinking about it ever since he made his decision, and we all agree it might be good for him. The front office is willing to accommodate any schedule the program brings. We just want him mentally healthy.”

“The Dear Life program?” I ask, barging in on the conversation. “I think I’m going to join it as well.”