Scary Grass...Part 2 of The Grass is Always Scarier...

I was mostly wasting away as things came to a head in Minnesota. One day my car was towed while I was at work. I scrambled to get the money to get it out. Once I had reclaimed it, it immediately broke down. I was in a new apartment after Scott moved in with his girlfriend, unwilling to ask anyone for help to return to Oklahoma. I only had two friends and I withheld a lot of my frustrations because I didn't want to burden them. My days had been reduced to working, sleeping, and staring at a box of sleeping pills on my nightstand.
The only relationship I had while I was there ended because he couldn't handle my struggles (funny, I dealt with his and mine when the relationship started). I had news for him; I couldn't handle my struggles anymore either. I called my best friend and told him I was so depressed that it was scaring me and that I wanted to come back to Oklahoma.
A funny thing happened, though. One day, when I decided to disclose some of my feelings to a friend, he struck me with words that have stuck with me since. "That's how life is."  It was simple, but sometimes the mind can only comprehend something at a certain time when all the cards are in a special order. This was that time. I was in beautiful Minnesota with a fantastic job, but I had let my brother and a few unfortunate incidents blind me from the experience of being out, open, and free.
It was a work day. Without a car, I resorted to using the public transportation (which was actually quite nice). During a wait downtown, a man pulled out a violin and began to play. It was so random and beautiful that I was mesmerized. I could not take my eyes off of him or hear anything else. He played for a little while, then packed up once his bus arrived. It was a movie-magic type of moment that I would have probably missed, had I completely given up.
My best friend had already purchased a ticket and I had already packed, but part of me wanted to stay. For the first time, I was aware of my freedom. 14 years under my mom's oppression and another 10-12 under my own. Freedom was not something I had, mentally and emotionally. I was always tied to an issue or chained to someone.
I had a long way to go before I forgave Scott for being reckless with my life, but I had taken my first step towards true adulthood after passing the age of 30.