Erica...lessons learned on the steps

So one night, I was leaving my girlfriend’s house, and I saw a girl. Crying. Now when I say crying it doesn’t even begin to portray what I saw. I don’t even think words could accurately describe the sight I saw, but it may have been one of the most abhorringly upsetting scenes I’ve ever witnessed. Her eyes were bloodshot from the tears, and she was keeled over and vomiting. She had on what looked like a shower cap, hair underneath disheveled and her otherwise fair complexion was completely red.

“Sir, can you please help me? I just need some help. I feel really depressed…here’s my last $10…I’m just feeling really depressed.”

“I don’t want your money…what’s wrong?”

“I just need someone to talk to…”

Not really knowing how to react, I sat and talked to this young lady for about 30 minutes about her family. Everything from a drug addict mother to an abusive brother, both of whom take money from her. General lack of support at home. Apparently she’d forgotten to take her medication for depression (hence her current condition). She also explained her aspirations to go to college, but being held back by her family. “I don’t have money because they’re always taking it.” Her name is Erica. She’s 20.

We sat there, and waited for the police to arrive (at her request), and talked more. I refused to believe that the damages in her relationship with her family were irreparable. I refused to believe that a home could be broken beyond the bounds of love. She was otherwise convinced. I tried to imagine Erica with a smile on her face, and wondered how often it makes an appearance. And how pretty she’d be having lived a “better” life. How at such a young age these occurrences would impact the rest of her life. How far back it’d gone, and how long it would persist. How blessed I am…

Then I started to wonder in general, how strong is love? I had no doubt in my mind that her brother and mother love her. How could they not? But how far does that take you? Of course I don’t know the answer to that question, but I like to think that it takes you as far as it needs to. How far that is, of course, depends on the relationship and the people in it. Maybe I need to stop living in the clouds, thinking that love conquers all. I just find it difficult to fathom that love is, by any stretch of the imagination, finite. That two people who love each other – a mother and a daughter, two sisters or even two friends – can reach a point where an understanding or common ground is unattainable. Maybe I’m being too idealistic or old-fashioned. Not everyone responds the same to this level of optimism with no grounds or logic to support it. But I’ve seen enough and been through enough to know that you only get one family, and really good friends are hard to come by, and they can be gone with a blink of an eye. Then you’re stuck wishing you had more memories…

Love the criminal. Hate the crime.

Let's start out by stating the obvious: shit happens. We all like to think that life is a bunch of rainbows and lollipops but sometimes things get rough. Things will not go the way we'd like them to. Promises will get broken. People will disappoint you. Few things in this life are guaranteed, but make sure you look out for that one...

At a certain point, we come to expect so much from each other. It's the pitfall of relationships. I'm not just talking about romantic relationships, but relationships in general - between people. We begin to trust, admire and love, and somewhere along the line we place people on this pedestal of invicibility. We even become naive enough to think they'll never come down. Of course this isn't to say people don't belong there. We come into each others' lives for a reason, and everything fits together as part of some larger plan. Something we may not even be able to see at the time, but all the while still just as satisfied as if we knew the whole story. Let's take Ray Lewis for example (there's a bigger point here...this isn't a blog about keeping #52 in Baltimore). This man has literally shed blood, sweat and tears since coming to the Ravens back in'96. He's taken us to the playoffs several times, a Superbowl win once, and has become the epicenter of a perennial defensive threat in the NFL. Now he's on the brink of becoming an unrestricted free agent. Let's not get it twisted - Ray made a name for himself in Baltimore. But when he starts considering maxing out what's left in his career - which may or may not be with Baltimore - people start getting antsy. I can't lie...I'd be disappointed if Ray left. Wouldn't even hide it. But I wouldn't hate Ray. I'd hate the fact that he isn't here. I'd hate that he retires wearing a color other than purple. But that wouldn't change what he did for this city.

So onto my point. We reserve these very few spaces in our heart for very special people. We never want to believe that these are the people that will let us down. They'll never forget to put gas in the car. Never drink all the orange juice. They'll always be on time. Always be a phone call away. Always be a shoulder to cry on...and will never make us cry. But the truth of the matter is: they might. And what happens if they do? I've learned you don't hate them for who they are, but for what they did...because you told yourself they wouldn't. Moreover because you don't hate them at all. I'm not saying don't set these expectations of someone. It's good to dream, and you can always make a better story in your heart than the one you're living. But once you get to that level the bar is always high, and the price is always steep.

Sure, love is a strong word...but sometimes it's not strong enough.