A lonely country road, rural Massachusetts. A normal day, a normal sky, a normal life. Jack was walking home from work at the local AMC it was 5:03PM. Jack hadn't eaten since 11:00 o'clock that morning his stomach was growing. He felt the pangs move through his body and thought of his mother's homemade mac and cheese that was waiting for him just a fifteen-minute walk away.

There was a cool summer breeze that blew over the wheat fields, milling the heads of grain through invisible hands. This was the third week that Jack was back home from college. He was getting a degree in history at The University of Rhode Island. But when he hadn't told his parents was that he had dropped out almost three months before. It was a combination of anxiety, stress, and depression that drove Jack to this decision. Jack had told himself he hadn't been happy for the entire three years he had been in school. It was nothing but cursory friendships, brief acquaintances, and random hookups. Jack thought that moving back home for the summer would clear his mind and he'd finally be able to find that place that his heart yearned for, but mind didn't know where to find it. Somewhere he could be at peace and find relationships that meant something and weren't just the casual human connections that dotted his life, like tiny little holes in a drop ceiling.

Jack's hunger began to ruminate with his existential dread that had he been carrying around for the past month and change. He thought, "Why the hell am I doing this? I could have just continued on for another year or two and got the fucking degree and moved on with my life and had a career." A career in what? Jack had no idea. He had seen shows on the Discovery Channel or CNN who had interviews with "experts", who had the title "History Expert" under their name. Jack thought, fuck it, that's a good enough reason to get a degree. Or at least that's what he had thought 4 years ago when he was in high school and was considering what to do after he graduated. At this point, three weeks into his job at the local AMC, he was reconsidering his decision he made when he was a naive teenager.

More than anything Jack longed for something in his life, a connection, a relationship, meaning. He wanted to wake up on some fine morning and the solution to be there, sitting at the end of his bed looking into his eyes telling him, "Everything is going to be okay".

He knew that's not how things really work out. But god, oh god... he wished it worked like that.

Jack was deep into his own thoughts. He glanced up at the lone country road in front of him, he was getting close to his house at this point. Just one more hill and he would be there. But as his eyes focused and took in the reality around him, he saw something out of the ordinary. Flashing blue and red lights just over the next hill. There was an old stone hedge following the road and the wind whistling through the Maples above him, all leading to the cusp of a hilltop in front of him. His mind started racing. Thinking, "I don't hear sirens", his mind naturally going towards the police, first responders, or firefighters. He was reminded of something he saw on Tik Tok, that first responders don't turn on their sirens when dealing with heart attack victims. He felt his stomach drop. His parents had been the only thing constant in his life at this point. They were kind of a pain in the ass most of the time, but his mom had always was there for him, and his father was to a far more distant manner. He then started thinking of a life without his parents, without support, and he felt a heavy burden fall over his heart. He hadn't realized how much he had been leaning on his parents in the past three months. Calling them to talk about random life events, calling just to talk, calling because he felt they understood him. He then imagined a world without that, and his heart dropped. He knew we couldn't stay with his parents forever, but they had been such a support column recently when everything had felt like a building collapsing around him. His pace started to quicken, and his heart started to beat heavier. He was already making excuses in his head of what it could be. But in the back of his head there is little voice that always said, "It's always this shit that happens to you. Suck it up, kid."

His thoughts starting back to college of the previous fall. He had asked out a new girl in his class, her name was Simone. She was cute, funny, and thoughtful. Jack had asked her out in the least committal possible way. After Simone had left a notebook and the library previous night, Jack had handed back to her after class, and in four words asked her out for coffee.

Jack remembered back to the spring of his freshman year. He was new, like everyone else, and terrified of seeming like a kid. He had started growing out a mustache that really didn't suit him at all. Later he would describe it as a weasel had crawled up onto his face and died. He said that joke to his friend Jacques, a month after they had met in his intro freshman course.

He remembered back to Simone and him sitting in Simone's apartment. He knew it wouldn't have lasted forever; they hadn't been talking to each other for the past few weeks. But as Simone sat him down and passed him a cup of coffee that warmed his hands, like warm gloves in the cool winter chill, he knew what was coming. That was just three months ago. Before he dropped out.

Jack blinked. Returned to the moment. He was running up the hill. Running to the lights that had scared the shit out of him. Already in the back of his mind, somewhere he was not conscious of, his heart was repairing itself. He had made those connections in school that weren't just cursory bullshit. Simone breaking up with him had been the final straw in a camel that made up the mental health crises of the past three years. It had pushed him over the edge, and he broke. The broken things and life don't stay broken usually, Jack knew that. Jack had been through worse. Not much worse. Maybe like a sliver worse. But the love and compassion and friendships and connections and beauty that he had seen throughout his life had prepared him well for this dark moment. His live was crashing down around him, but underneath him he had columns that were supporting him. All he had to do was ask. Asking is always the hardest part.

As Jack crested that hill, he saw something that confused him deeply. There were no police sirens, no first responders. It was a convenience store, right smack dap next to his house. Literal feet from the eastern side of his parent's house. The house he had grown up in. That his parents lived in and still did. Somehow, over the course of eight hours, his parents house had acquired a neighbor. A convenient store with a red and blue flashing light out in the front proclaiming its name, "Hart's Own".

The dread and terror and anxiety that had welded up in Jack died away. In its place came a flood of questions, confusion, and deep existential problems. That Jack would have to deal with. But right now, at this moment, on top of that hill, somewhere in Jack's brain, healing had begun.