Chapter 3 #3
"I sure will. Go ahead and have a seat." Promise invited, making her way back to the other side of her desk.
Syncere sat across from Promise selling the same lie he always had, appearing to be relaxed, but his heart was in immense turmoil.
He knew that if he kept himself up, he could fool most by distracting them with his outward appearance.
He knew that a lot of people in the world were superficial like that.
Syncere had been keeping up appearances long before getting jammed up by the law, but now, all his bullshit had finally caught up with him.
He'd stopped giving a fuck, and had lost himself in a way that left him barely treading water.
Healing was a gift, and Promise operated in this gift many times without realizing it.
Her experience in the prison system had sharpened her discernment, and taught her not to judge a man by his appearance, but by his words.
Especially the ones he didn't say, but the ones his spirit screamed, and no one heard.
Promise saw straight through Syncere, and wasn't even trying to.
"So, what brings you to see me today?" She asked, ready to make some progress.
"I was just pullin' up on you to let you know ain't nobody gon' fuck wit'chu while you here. Not an officer or inmate," Syncere stated, meaning every word.
"That's a fact, Syn," Promise agreed. "But, that's because I'ma let them know by the way I carry myself. You don't have to protect me. All you have to do is stay focused, and come home to your babies," Promise confirmed.
It got so silent in the room after that statement you could hear a pin drop.
"How are you really holding up in here, Syncere? Your smile is still in place, and you don't look nothing like what you're going through. That in itself is commendable, but you're carrying a heavy weight. I can feel it," Promise pried, completely tapped in, and Syncere couldn't deny it.
Syn to a deep breath then released it. He wasn't keen on exposing his heart, but he was drowning, and needed some help.
"Everything is fucked up, and I'm the cause of it all.
By the time I saw myself, I was in too fuckin' deep, and could see myself out of the bullshit I created,” he admitted.
“Now I'm in here, and ain't shit I can do about it.
Everybody tellin' me don't worry about what's goin' on out there, but how can I not?
" he said, feeling overwhelmed. "Amor is the love of my life, but I hurt her, and I'on know if she'll ever forgive a nigga. "
"And the other women... What about them, and the kids you have with them?" Promise asked.
“Like I said, I love my kids. I'll never deny them."
Promise listened and she didn't judge. There was a lot she could say, but she didn't speak right away. She was wise enough to know that what was most important was saying the right thing at the right time. She didn't believe in wasting her words, talking in circles, and at the end nothing changed.
"I hear you loud and clear," Promise said.
"But what concerns me most is how you mentioned everyone else...
all these situations taking place around you, but until you examine your own patterns, the way you process, and why you do the things you do...
nothing will change. You have to get real and face yourself.
Ask yourself those hard questions. You have to work on you first, then you can think about life with someone else. "
Syn leaned back slightly, processing.
“If the mindset that created those situations doesn’t shift, the outcomes won’t either,” Promise continued. “Accountability isn’t punishment… It's clarity.”
Syn listened attentively because Promise wasn’t making him feel like his shit was acceptable. She wasn’t telling him to deal with the chaos he was responsible for. She was offering him the type of wisdom and advice that wasn’t easy, but yielded lasting results. That’s what he needed.
“You have time right now that most people avoid giving themselves. Identify where you fell off with yourself. When your heart broke, and you swept it under the rug with the audacity to move on with life like nothing happened.”
Syn rubbed his hands together slowly.
Promise continued. “You can’t build healthy relationships with anyone if your heart ain’t right, Syn.”
Silence returned, but this time it felt reflective rather than tense.
The hour had been well spent, and Promise prayed that Syn would be willing to do the work necessary, not just to get his family back, but to get back to a place of true joy, contentment, and wholeness.
“Thank you, Sis. You done put a whole lot of shit on a nigga mind today. I appreciate you. Real shit,” Syn stood and said when he heard the Officer’s keys dangling in a short distance. “That’s my time.”
“It is,” Promise agreed. “Will I see you in class this afternoon?”
“Yea, I’ll be there to support,” Syn said, turning to walk towards the door.
Promise nodded, then turned her attention to her MacBook to enter in her notes.
“Ms. Montgomery,” the officer called from the door again. “Are you ready for the next inmate to come down?”
“Yes, that’ll be fine. Thank you,” Promise replied, looking up briefly, then refocused on the screen ahead of her.