optimism aside.  optimism for another post.  visiting someone in prison inherently sucks.  up at 5am, 3 hour drive, stand in line outside for 2 hours and 15 minutes.  outside.  july.  louisiana.  85 degrees, sun beating down.  old people, babies, a man with a cane, a woman with what i assume is cerebral palsy.  i can't complain too much about the heat, the sweat pouring off of me, because they are doing it, too.  met a woman who drives up from miami.  15 hours.  met a couple who drive in from west texas.  9 hours.  almost everyone is middle class at best.  there is shade by the building, but we don't wait there.  we wait where they tell us to, in the middle of the parking lot.  every half hour or so, the call from the building "10 more!" "15 more!" "6 more!"  we trudge up, finally, to present our IDs and our loved one's prisoner number.  go through a metal detector.  leave behind whatever they deem problematic (the kroger card attached to my keys?  problematic.).  finally into the visitor's room, four hours with the person we've come to see.  everywhere you look, someone's private moments on display.  arbitrary rules.  stories of the guards cracking down after the prison escapes in new york and mexico.  i can't begin to comprehend what being in prison is like, but my little taste is enough to know it's not good.  they did this to themselves, of course.  to their families and friends.  i'm mad at them for that.  furious that they have made these loved ones sacrifice to see them.  that they are loved despite it.  even though i care for my friend despite it.  it's hard not to.  all these people in the visitor's room…and these are the ones whose loved ones come.  the lucky ones?  i don't know any more.  3 hours back home, mentally exhausted.  take out food, tv, cat who doesn't want to snuggle.  icing the heat rash i've acquired on my legs from those 2 hours and 15 minutes outside, the sunburn along the hemlines that the sunscreen didn't quite get.  i'm a lucky one; i get to leave.  i'm a lucky one; it's not my dad or brother or husband or child's father who has been left behind until the next visit.  i stayed until the end and couldn't watch the other goodbyes.  had to turn away from the reality of the goodbyes.  pit in my stomach.  he may just be my friend.  but it's still really hard.