The initial prospect of being a divorcée scared the living shit out of me and I had this strong desire to pretend like I never got married – as if I never said, “I do.” I didn’t want anyone to know. I was ashamed, but how does one erase the last three years from his/her life? This isn’t Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind nor am I Kate Winslet, though, laying on the floor of our guest bedroom the night I knew in my heart that it was over, my face doused in tears, my hysterics likely frightening the neighbors halfway to dialing 9-1-1, I could have used a little eternal sunshine. I tightly hugged my knees to my chest, rocked back-and-forth and racked my brain on whose number I could dial at 3 ‘o’ clock in the morning. My mama was always my go-to, late night/early morning consolation, but I didn’t feel like listening to the stupid operator inform me that she wasn’t available.
Ironically, I assumed the fetal position and violently continued my half scream/half cries in the dark, firmly gripping my cell phone. I noticed both of my cats standing in the doorway, staring at me, wide-eyed with their “what’s wrong with mommy” look. I half-heartedly reached out for my youngest furry companion, George, who shied away likely due to the foreign sounds coming from my mouth, burdening his sensitive hearing. My body crumpled back to the ground and I continued the incessant rocking, my anxiety heightening to the brink of an attack.
My phone vibrated. I frantically looked at the blindingly bright screen through already bloodshot eyes. “What’s wrong, boo?” The text message read. One of my closest friends had gratefully awaken from her slumber to the numerous and consecutive missed calls from me. Thank God, I thought to myself. What followed was a detailed explanation of the deceitful and detrimental events that led to the pivotal conclusion, “It’s over.” I replied.
You know the expression, “The straw that broke the camel’s back?” Yeah, that camel was fucking crippled – it was never gonna carry anyone, not David nor I, through the goddamned desert ever again. That became crystal clear that morning. Or how about the expression, “He pushed me over the edge?” Well, I was standing there, patiently hanging on for dear life, begging for David to pull me back and/or praying to the Universe that I had wings. I didn’t have wings nor did I grow a pair on the way down.
They say when you meet “the one,” you just know. The same can be said for when it’s over, you just know. And after I hit the ground, sans wings, I longed for that eternal sunshine, anything to numb or completely erase the pain…
to be continued….