I started work at a coffee shop. It was a small one at the edge of the city. If I wasn't going through a lot I would admit to liking my job. The few customers that came over always tipped me and we're very nice to me, wanting to make me feel welcome in the country I clearly didn't being in. I would find their actions kind, but currently, the more people paid attention to me the more I felt like at the edge of collapsing.
My mental health wasn't very good, I always found myself in deep thoughts, reminiscing about my child and lost love, thinking about all the multiple things I could have done to keep both of them. I had gotten this job in hopes that it would save me from my hunting thoughts.
I was also afraid that my parents might find something wrong with me. I had no reason to be this
