Thinking Out Loud, Volume CCLXXIII

I really didn't talk to her all that much, but I knew what she was up to. Well, I knew about some of what she was up to, although I'm sure there were some things going on behind closed doors that I may never know about. But I knew enough to know that she was headed for big trouble if she didn't make an about face on the road she was traveling, and I found out that I was not the only one who had the same concerns. In fact there were some who tried their hardest to talk to her to try to persuade her to open her eyes and see the pitfalls that were lying just ahead, all to no avail. And, just as we had predicted, the day of reckoning came, and when it did, it came with a vengeance.

I had been watching from a distance while she was living it up like there was no tomorrow, and through it all, I kept my distance. After all, who was I that I should interfere? It's not like she was my own flesh and blood, and I do often take pride in being a person who only tends to my own business. I could easily have rationalized and tried to justify my inaction by saying that she wouldn't have listened to me anyway, which, I'm sure, is the truth. Yet, there's no denying the fact that I didn't even try. Her parents were my friends, and I could only imagine how much they were hurting as they watched helplessly while their daughter, whom they would have been willing to give their lives for, was throwing her own life to the dogs. In my conversations with them, "she" was a topic that we, sometimes awkwardly, avoided.

Like I said before, when payday came, it came with unbelievable force. And, true to my nature, I observed it all from afar, just like everyone else. Well, not everyone else. Besides her family, there were just a couple people, the same ones who had so diligently tried to steer her back onto the right path before, who jumped up and did whatever they could to help, although it didn't seem like there was much that could be done at that point. The rest of us just sat back and said, "We knew something like this was gonna happen. She brought it all on herself."

Sometimes I would think about her while she was serving her time, and I would wonder if maybe she should move to a different part of the country when she regained her freedom, mainly for two reasons: First of all, I felt that she didn't need to stay in the same area with the people who helped to drag her down, and secondly, maybe she needed to go somewhere where no one knew her and what type of life she had been living. But there were two things that I didn't factor in when I was thinking like that: I didn't consider the fact that people in general have a forgiving nature, and I forgot about those two or three people who had never left her side through the worst and lowest days.

Today she is a free woman, and I'm happy to report that from all appearances, she appears to have gotten herself back on the right track, although, contrary to my unspoken recommendations, she's living in the same place she was living before. And, yes, I've talked to her. It was an interesting conversation. One thing she said to me was, "Preston, my life has been a living hell, but there are a couple of people (she called them by name) who have stuck with me through thick and thin, even though some times I would treat them like dirt. Today, now that I'm back on my feet, I would walk through hell for those ladies." I've seen enough in the last few months to believe that she meant what she said.

I'm not going to say who "she" is, even if you guess correctly. I'm just glad to be able to say that it looks like her story may have a happy ending after all, and there are some really good people who are at least partially responsible, although I'm not one of them. Maybe there's nothing I could've done anyway, but how could I know that if I never even tried? Chances are, I'll have another opportunity to help someone else someday. I hope I do better next time.

Preston