Grape suckers and broken hearts

I guess I’ve just started to think how cute little kids are. I’m sitting on the 60 waiting to go home so I can help my mom wash her hair. It’s like the sight of them almost brings me to tears, in a good and bad way at the same time. It makes me happy that their mom is treating them nicely and letting them sit where they want to. The girl, Melissa (or so I’ve heard) is wearing a cute little tanktop and short set which is blue and says princess on it. A package of cigarettes (a brand I’ve never heard of) is sticking out slightly from their mother’s backpack. For a second I wonder why she started smoking, and then I feel a little mad because her kids are probably inhaling secondhand smoke. I guess I can always hote that she smokes outside. The topic of smoking clouds my mind for a second (no pun intended :P). I think I’ve finally realized that there’s no real point to smoking, I mean not that I didn’t before, but still. All it does for the most part is waste your money and shorten your life one slow drag at a time. I guess that some people could argue--- wow. Now one of the kids is talking about how “daddy got in trouble with the police”, but one is arguing that he didn’t. I guess the parents are divorced. I wonder how that would be…I think I’d probably hate that. The little girl has just told her mom that she loves her. It’s adorable. I guess it makes me want to cry, again. The fact that this girl who can only be about 5 or 6 has such an unconditional love for someone, one that isn’t going to hurt, at least for now. One that’s going to last long where she doesn’t have to worry about someone breaking her heart. The smell of her grape sucker combined with the heat and my small lunch is making me nauseous. They’re getting off the bus now and walking down another cracked Millwoods sidewalk. I wonder where these innocent little kids are going in life. I know that one day they’re going to go through something terrible and feel like they can’t even recover, maybe even like they’re going to die. It might tear them apart from the insides while other people watch because they can’t even help. Unfortunately every single person has one of these events in their lifetime. The bend or break, fight or flight kind of situations. I still believe that everyone has the potential to get back up from these events; but not everyone uses this potential. I ride home with a heavy heart today, not because everyone goes through bad times---but because there seems to be so much opportunity in the world that’s often hard to take advantage of. Not everyone is brave and courageous, not everyone can say what they want when they want. People can’t just go around confessing their feelings and be accepted every time they do so. Some people can pick themselves up really easily because they love themselves and have self confidence, but not everyone does, and that’s the sad part. I suppose all we can do is keep trying—pushing harder to the bravery end of the spectrum and hoping it pays off (although no one can guarantee it will). But what happens when our will to try runs out?