Bette leaned out and rubbed my arm. “I’m sure there are a lot of people who would love to have a relationship with you. But you have to be open to one. Who knows, maybe you’re just not ready for one right now. And as for how to have one, when the time is right and the right person is there, it’ll just sort of happen on its own. You’ll see. It’ll be like any other relationship you have in your life. It’ll feel just as natural.”

I remember feeling like someone had squeezed my heart when she said that to me. She was being so genuine and nice, and all I could think was how no one would want to have anything to do with me if they knew the whole story. But then, Bette knew some of it, more than I wanted her to or I told her, and here she had opened her home to me.

“I don’t have any other relationships in my life… never have.”

As if seeing this was my way of starting to open up, she ventured very quietly and calmly, “Never? What about your mom? The foster family you mentioned the other night? People you met here in LA?”

I scoffed, thinking about that. Did I have a relationship with my mom? When you’re just a kid, you don’t really have a relationship so to speak with your parents. You need them because you’re small and they take care of you. You love them, but is that because you choose to or because they raised you? I know that despite everything that has happened in my life, despite the fact that she gave me up, I know I still love my mother. There was a time when I was younger, getting bounced around foster homes, and when I first on the streets, that I hated her. But after seeing, and even to an extent feeling, the effects of drugs and desperation, I understand why she gave me up. I don’t know if I’ll ever forgive her for it, but at least I understand it. And I do still love her. Would I be so forgiving and loving if I ran into her tomorrow? I don’t know. I know I’d at least hear her out though.