Dear Life(16)
Fantastic.
Chairs scraping echo in the church hall as everyone forms their own intimate circles. I make no attempt to move, because I’m a dick like that, and force everyone to form around me. Awkwardly, we all shift our eyes from one another to see who’s going to start, everyone besides the guy in the baseball cap who doesn’t seem to want to interact just as much as me.
“I guess I’ll start,” Snowflake says after a bout of silence. “Um, hi. My name is Daisy. Do we have to say why we’re here?”
Marleen overhears Daisy’s question and answers, “That’s entirely up to you. Whatever you’re comfortable with.”
“Oh.” Daisy acknowledges Marleen and turns back to us, her hands twisting in her lap. “Um, I’m here to start a new chapter.”
Vague. Anyone could really say they’re here to start a new chapter but I won’t call her out on that because I will use the same bullshit line. Key to making it through this program . . . faking it.
Looking around, Hollyn points at herself and asks, “My turn?” We don’t answer so instead she sits up in her chair and says, “I’m Hollyn.” We wait for her to continue but she doesn’t. “That’s it. I’m Hollyn. Move on.”
From the corner of my eye, I can see Snowflake blush. Is she embarrassed for saying why she’s here when Hollyn didn’t?
Peeking up from under the bill of his hat, the stranger acknowledges our group for the first time. Recognition hits me before he can say his name.
Jace Fucking Barnes, the shortstop for the Colorado Miners. No wonder they made us sign NDAs.
“Hey, I’m Jace and I’m, uh,” he pulls on the bill of his hat clearly uncomfortable, “I’m in a bad place right now and need a way to get through it.”
Visibly affected, he leans forward, hands clasped together, forearms resting on his legs, and his head down. Growing up in Denver my entire life, I’ve become a diehard fan for my local teams, the Colorado Miners being one of them. I watch as many games as I can and am immersed in each team, to the point that I know an embarrassing amount of information about the players. I know Jace is a pretty easy-going, fun guy. He’s a prankster and very casual in his interviews. However, that’s not the Jace I’m seeing right now. The Jace sitting next to me looks tortured.
What the hell could he be going through?
“Your turn,” Hollyn rudely says in my direction. Her arms are crossed over her chest, radiating bitch vibes.
Slouching in my chair, I take a casual stance and say, “I’m Carter, and I can’t wait to write some fucking letters.”
From the corner of my eye, I see Jace nod his head, a slight chuckle in his shoulders. Hollyn and Snowflake look less than thrilled by my comment. Snowflake seems like she wants to shrink into her ill-fitting overalls.
“I hope you’ve had time to introduce yourselves,” Marleen cuts in with a clap of her hands. “You will become well acquainted with one another over the next few months, leaning on one another for support and guidance.”
“Great,” Hollyn mutters under her breath, eyeing me up and down.
Feeling is mutual, sister.
Getting serious, Marleen folds her hands in front of herself and says, “We are all here for a reason, whether you want to talk about it now or not, that’s up to you and your comfort level. But you are here to make a change, to explore something new, to find acceptance for your past, and create a new future.”
God, I’m so not interested in this right now.
For the next half hour, Marleen lays out the groundwork for the program, what we should expect and what’s expected from us. There will be a series of challenges we must complete and write about—joy—and we’re required to attend all meetings.
Marleen continues, “The point of this program is to address what life has given you, the cards you’ve been dealt. It’s not about complaining about what you’re going through, but about accepting it and making the most of the life you have. Living life with a purpose, proving your existence.” She pauses and looks around the room. Emphasizing her words, she repeats, “Prove your existence. That’s your new motto to live by. What did you do today to prove your existence, what are you doing tomorrow to prove your existence in this world?”
Prove my existence. Isn’t that ironic. That’s what I’m fucking trying to do, but my uncle is making it practically impossible to do so with his low pay and overbearing eye. And thanks to Sasha . . .
Continuing, Marleen says, “Proving your existence every day isn’t about making a grand gesture, or achieving a goal, it’s about the small things. It’s about getting out of bed, living in the positive, and making the most of the life you’ve been blessed with. Today, you proved your existence by coming to this program, by taking a leap into the unknown, by meeting new people. Tomorrow, it may be something as simple as writing a letter to life. Proving your existence is about the intent of taking one smaller step toward your goals in life.” Glancing around the room with her hands clasped in front of her and a sincere look on her face, she says, “I know why some of you are here. I know the struggle you may be enduring, the depression you might be in, or the nervousness of the unknown.” Marleen looks at Snowflake for a second and then addresses the room again. “Whatever brings you here today, be sure to know, you’re not in this alone.”