I graduated college jobless, disillusioned, and afraid.
I came back to Los Angeles, and I’ve been living with my family for the past few months. I applied to work at multiple places and never heard from a single one. The road was long and bleaker by the minute.
Shards of light among the hazy days kept my spirits afloat. I got calls from old friends that made me feel whole in ways I didn’t know I needed. I learned to connect with my community again, after being estranged from it for so long. And I got to see my dad on father’s day, crying as I heard him speak from behind the glass on a telephone wire. Those moments among the hardship sustained me.
My dad still writes me like he did back when I was in school, even though it’s been a while since I've written back. I’m a little speechless these days.
I’ve had to ruminate the realities that will quickly ensue upon his release. Recidivism is relentless. And I don't know that i'll ever be able to confront that again.
But still, moments like seeing my mom smile, running in the night, strumming my guitar, writing poetry, and seeing old friends makes the hardship less hard. And I feel lucky to have these things.
I really am.