I was often told that a glass was always half full, not half empty. I would wonder why we couldn't just call it half. That way it was not empty nor full. It was just there, in a state of being, that state of being which was half. Not full and not empty. Thats how I often felt. So unfulfilled but not exactly knowing what I needed to reach fulfillment.

My glass was never filled with water, I couldn't just add more water, it was filled with unknown substances. I could never be fulfilled.

I don't think the substance of my fulfillment even existed.

"You gonna take that?" My grandmother asked as I stared at the bingo card in hand and I looked to my ringing phone, seeing more than just 2 missed calls on the bright screen, my lock screens still being the default wallpaper when i'd gotten it,

It was both calls from my mother.

A second goes by and she calls again in which I sigh softly. "Hello." I answered normally but the questioning in my tone made it sounded more like a, what do you want? In reality, I didn't mean it like that at all.

"Hey Adrienne, you still busy?" She asked, but I could hear the obvious words behind it. The restlessness. Did you get me my sleeping pills yet or not?

She wasn't necessarily a bad mother or anything, I just knew her more than anyone else did, I knew the hidden meanings behind her words, I looked deeper into it.

Nothing was on the surface with most people, there was always something more.

"Im with nonna." I tell her, biting at the inside of my cheek as I looked to the time to see it was almost 5pm, which exactly was when I had to leave, instead of getting up I leaned back on the homes surprisingly comfortable couch.

My grandmother, Eleanor Faye was a tip top 70 year old woman, who had unfortunately sustained a hip injury not too long ago. With that we had to move her down her to Sunny Heights nursing home, we, as in my mom, Nora Faye and I.

It had been half paid for with her disability fund and I paid for everything for my mother and I to live with the money I made, except that thankfully our quaint house that we've lived in since forever was paid off.

I just paid for my mothers sleeping meds, our medical insurance, the grocery's, lights and water bill as well as my college fund which was a little less due to my scholarship and student loans.

Something noticeable is that the cycle of the Faye woman continues. Falling back on your daughter, as well as ending up alone. Once cycle none of us would ever be able to break, it just worked that way.

Over. And over. And over again.

"How is she?" Better than you. I wanted to say, but I bit at my tongue like how I always did. I didn't even mean to sound like a bitch, sometimes I wondered if this was just how I was. Programmed to be awful.

I looked to my grandma who made jewelry with a set of beads on her lap. She told me not too long ago that knitting was for the elderly alone, I didn't question what she thought she was considered then.

"She's fine." I said, puckering my lips as I looked between my grandmother, the time, and the bag on my wide which held the medication.

"I'll be home soon." I said as I stood up and dusted my hand over my denim jacket even if there wasn't anything to dust off, sighing softly after she said a quick goodbye on the other end and cut the call.

I stuffed my phone in my pocket just when my grandmother spoke up, "You're leaving already?" She asked, tipping her plastic pink framed glasses down the bone of her thin nose bridge.

"I am, i'll see you next week nona."

"Okay dea- oh! Also bring me scones, the ones from down the road."

"Thats old lady food." I joked with her, a ghost of a smirk crossing my face as I put my bag over my shoulder, the packet inside of it, she narrowed her gaze at me, almost beady eyed looking.

"Im not old, piccola merda." She mumbled the last part and it took all of me not to burst out laughing at how defensive she could get over age. "Im rich in years."

I clicked my tongue at the roof of my mouth, "Ah, I see, ricco di anni nona?"

She hummed, nodding once more and her brown curls that were tied back moved with her. I had the hair of my grandmother, brown curls except mine laid to my lower back since my grandmother told me never to cut it, so I honored her wishes, and didn't.

But I had the eyes of my mother that were the same color as my hair, brown. I was thankful that for some reason, from what I remember, which is mostly nothing, I was not at all any part resembling my father.

"Get home safe." She say's a little louder as I walked out and I turned back, sending her a mock salute before my back seemed to hit a fleshy wall.

So it was not at all a wall.

I turned my head back and looked to Heath, the youngest male nurse here and he smiled. "Sorry." I said quickly and he nodded, "You okay?" He asked and I shrugged his question off like it was mere lint, "Fine, hows nona's hip?" I questions as we walked the same direction towards the doors.

Heath was the closest thing I had to an actual friend, other than nonna of course, I doubt she even counted me as a friend since I was a granddaughter, but she was someone I spent majority of my time with voluntarily.

I spent no time with Heath other than discuss my grandmother but still, he was a friend in my books, more than an acquaintance, even that's actually what he would be considered from the looks of our friendship.

"Been good, actually."

I nodded, shoving my hands into my pockets as I make my way through to the doors, "Okay, thanks, i'll see you." I said before I walked a little faster to get out the rotating doors before he did.

I then pushed forward till I was out the building and then continued my way down the sidewalk to get to the parking lot, taking note of everything around me.

There were a few dogs outside, people walking them, people out with their friends, maybe significant others, some listening to music with their headphones and someone bringing their phones to ear, probably talking on calls, the normal amount of buildings that were lit from the inside, and a numerous amount of cars driving on the streets.

The usual.

I got to a car, my mothers old car she'd used when she actually got around to places, a black 2013 Ford Edge, in the parking lot and got inside it, throwing my bag on the passenger seat beside me and sighing as I made myself comfortable on the driver's seat, putting my seatbelt over my body as if I even cared about my road safety.

Tomorrow was another day.

I stared at my windscreen for a second when that thought crossed my mind.

I didn't really care to have another day.

I looked to my steering wheel and looked to my keys.

I didn't want to have another day, but I had to have another day.

Life never waits, life goes on, everyday passes and even if you're stuck in place, time is not.