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“I am an absolute mess of epic proportions.”

I always hated the generalization people made about kids in the foster system, the stereotype that we were damaged, broken… ruined. I hated it, had never believed it, but there were times this little voice deep down inside me whispered that it was all true. It was this insidious scratch, sneering that the traumas that had happened in my life, ones I knew were there but didn’t remember, had taken any kind of innocence or good out of me.

I bit that dark voice back, buried it so deep it would be a lifetime before it clawed its way out, but when I was down, the shadows moving over me and trying to drag me to hell, I heard it whispering up from the sad parts of my soul. It was an old, toxic friend, an ex-lover who hurt you over and over again, one you wanted gone, but it never fully left.

And it was because of all of that, the situations and moments in my life that had shaped who I was, that I tried so damn hard to be someone else. Laughing when things weren’t funny, smiling when I wasn’t happy. I’d become a good actress, a perfect liar.

Because I’m missing something so essential in me that it’s like I’m missing half of myself.

I lay in bed and stared at the ceiling, the shadows and lights flashing across the small room. I didn't have the energy to move, the depression of life pressing me down like cinder blocks on my chest. All I wanted to do was shut my mind off, flip a switch so that there was nothing there, a blank canvas. White noise.

I closed my eyes and rubbed the heels of my palms against them, my body aching not just physically but this bone-deep exhaustion that I’d accepted would never go away. The stress of not having a job, worrying about the money in my savings account, and now Darragh going radio silent, had me so on edge that I wondered if a person could die from stress alone.

I told myself if I didn’t hear from her today, I was draining my savings account—college courses be damned—and flying out to Scotland to find her, to make sure she was okay. Maybe it was drastic, definitely irrational, but she was my family, sister by choice, and she was across a vast ocean all alone with no help to find her way back.

It was those thoughts running through my mind in the middle of the night on repeat when my cell phone vibrated. My heart shot into my throat, threatening to suffocate me as I reached over and grabbed it. The pure relief I felt when I saw Darragh’s name flash across the screen, a goofy picture I’d taken where she was sticking her tongue out at me because I’d told her she was shit-faced, slammed so hard into me I felt even weaker.

I answered the call and let out an exhale as we spoke, and as I listened to her tell me about the crazy adventure she’d had over the last few days and why she’d been radio silent, how she’d found information on her father, I cried for how happy I was at that news. She’d gotten something out of her trip, a piece of information about the family she desperately wanted to find.

She told me that she’d met someone, that she was happy, but things were crazy, and she’d tell me all about it later.

And it was as I listened to her and heard the true happiness in her voice that I knew one thing so fiercely, so intensely that every part of me became painful.

I’d been latching onto our friendship like a lifeline, and with Darragh clearly starting this incredible journey with the man she’d met, with everything changing—for the better, I told myself—it was time I did what I had to in order to pave my own way.

I’d start living the life I’d always wanted. Today.

I hadn’t been able to go back to sleep after getting off the phone with Darragh, and so I lay there just going over the choices I’d made and the things I hadn’t done with my life. I cataloged what I’d do today, how I’d start things off on the right foot. I felt this hope in me for the first time that I was actually throwing caution to the wind and just doing me.

I was pumped, happy about the change I was going to make in my life, that first step for something different. It was like coming to that realization—an epiphany—that all my worries over her safety, over my choices were settled. But I couldn’t help but remember the tingling feeling in the back of my mind as I listened to her speak. She’d been pretty thin with details, clearly hiding things from me, and as much as I wanted to push, I told myself she’d divulge things in her own time and in her own way.

I made a mental list to run errands the entire morning, to pick up some applications at the fancier restaurants and stay away from the bars. I’d eat lunch at the park and people watch, making up stories in my head about who they were and what their lives were all about.

Then after that, I’d spend a couple of hours looking at courses at an online college, writing down all the classes I wanted to take, getting myself worked up with the hope of saying, Fuck it, to my worries and just diving right into all of this.

And then I’d look at different countries to travel to, all the history to be learned. The catacombs in Paris, Saint Basil's Cathedral in Moscow, the pyramids in Egypt.

Yeah, it all sounded perfect in my head.

I crawled out of bed before the sun was even fully out for the day, and showered. I shuffled into the kitchen, the silence that filled my tiny apartment comforting for the first time in… ever. I stared out the small window above the kitchen sink, seeing a direct view into the window right across the way, a check cashing place that was dark except for the small EXIT sign above the door.

Maybe I couldn’t do all the things I wanted in my short life, like travel and go to school, but God, if I had to pick just one, I figured the best history degree I could get was a firsthand experience visiting all the exotic places, seeing them with my own eyes, touching relics of a long-lost past.

I leaned against the sink and grabbed my phone, calling up Darragh, because I missed her and wanted to hear her voice again to make sure she was truly okay. Because I still couldn’t get over that weird feeling I’d gotten when I’d spoken to her earlier. I placed my phone to my ear and let it ring, scanning the outdated kitchen and living room I’d called home for too long.

“Evelyn? Are you okay?” Darragh’s voice came through after the third ring, her voice carrying a note of worry.

Yeah, I couldn’t blame her for wondering why the hell I called.

“Yeah. I’m fine.” Although I felt elation for the first time in a long time, I didn't want that darkness that burrowed deep in me to rise and threaten to take it all away again.

She exhaled in relief, and I hated that I was so clearly a head case that she’d jump to conclusions that something was wrong. Could she see how I didn’t really have a grasp on my life?

“Good. I got worried hearing from you again so soon.”

“No, everything is fine. I guess I was just feeling a little clingy because I’ve been so worried about you for the past couple of days.” I exhaled and turned to make some coffee, the headache behind my eyes blooming, because I hadn’t given my body the caffeine fix it was roaring out for. “So yeah, that’s my excuse to call you, which isn't an excuse at all.”

She laughed softly. “I’m glad you called. But this phone call is going to cost a fortune.”

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