A Year Around the Sun

t h i r t y-t h r e e - things had to happen this way

all we have is what's left today,
hearts so pure in this broken p l a c e . . .

🌊🌊🌊

◇ e i g h t m o n t h s l a t e r ◇

The salt shaker in front of me has been in my hands for the past fifteen minutes while I restlessly toyed with it. I must have taken the cap off and put it back on at least a hundred times. Twisting it around over and over again served as a way to occupy my mind, and my hands.

Alone in a booth inside The Sand Dollar an hour before closing and this is what I've been doing with my time. Playing with a salt shaker like it's the best thing I've ever gotten a hold of.

"Shit," I grumbled under my breath, fed up with the voices in my head that didn't get the hint to just stop. I had to do more than just sit there and fidget with a condiment container. So I slid out of the bench and went behind the counter to grab cleaning spray and a rag, then headed to a random table at a different booth.

It really didn't need to be cleaned. None of the booths needed to be cleaned because there weren't any customers within the past twenty minutes. A Thursday morning in early August obviously wasn't a busy day for us. But I couldn't sit there any longer and not do anything. I had to keep myself busy by scrubbing the daylights out of the table.

I felt a presence behind me, and I glanced over my shoulder to see Robyn. She was watching me with an intrigued look on her face as I kept on cleaning, small grunts from me being the only sound between us other than the low volume of the radio playing throughout the diner.

"You know, if you scrub any harder, you're gonna put a hole in the table," she quipped. I didn't laugh, or chuckle, or even muster up a smile.

Instead, a flustered sigh came out as I dropped myself onto the end of the bench. Robyn sighed too, more steadily than myself, and she joined me by sitting opposite of me in the booth. Her eyes were on me, but I was facing the counter with all the empty stools lined up against it.

"Are you okay?" She asked gently. It caused me to bark back a response, even though what she said didn't necessarily irritate me. It was my thoughts that were devouring me to the point where I couldn't keep it in any longer.

"I'm great, Robyn," I bitterly smiled, turning to look at her now. "All my friends are starting college in a couple of weeks. They're going to move on, make all new friends, and do a lot of really great things. Meanwhile, I'll be here because I can't make up my mind. I'm going to be stuck in this diner for the rest of my life. So yeah, I'm doing just great."

She pursed her lips, choosing her words carefully before she uttered them. "Do you want to talk about it?"

"I don't know what I want to do, and that's my problem in every aspect of my life," I spat out, before I rested my head in my hands and stared down at the spotless surface of the speckled table.

A comfortable silence fell over us for a minute or two. Robyn always had a way about her that made you feel warm inside. So cordial and good-natured, constantly wanting the best for those she cares about. Her being older and wiser may have to do with it, or maybe it's because I feel this kind of connection with her that I don't feel with anyone else. A godmother-daughter bond that goes beyond being just another guardian of mine.