A random list of things about me:
1. I was never, never going to have any kids!
2. I love my kids more each day.
3. I hate liars
4. After all these years, I still haven't figured out whether I like my hair long or short
5. I love cooking
6. I am the most unorganized person
7. I forget to remind my kids to brush their teeth
8. Even though I want to be a nurse, I hate going to the doctors office
9. I have the same address book now that I had in high school
10. I am secretly terrified about getting older
11. My mother is my favorite person in the world
12. I was in the Army for 31 days
13. I once threatened to shoot someone
14. I love fixing things
15. I can still wear the same clothes I did 10 years ago
16. I don't like being a housewife, I stink at it
17. I love being home with my kids
18. I live in the same town I grew up in
19. There are times that I wish I could have another baby
20. I am a closet WOW player (if you don't know, I'm not telling you) and I'm awesome
21. I was afraid of the dark for 3 years after my divorce
22. I only drink about twice a year
23. I know what it's like to love someone who doesn't love you back
24. I always hated my step-father
25. I strive to be a great mom and a friend
26. I love shopping
27. If I start reading a book, I have to sit and read the whole thing as fast as possible
28. I bought my mothers house because I can close my eyes and see her standing in the room
29. I never called my grandfater as much as I should have
30. I love to write, but I am terrible at corresponding
I could feel the eyes on me, staring, as I walked off the bus. The long aisle stretching even longer as I walked past all the mixture of preteens and children, stuffed cheek and jowl in the seats. Certainly they had heard, certainly they had seen the commotion in the back seats where the elite high school kids sat. Finally taking the final step off of the bus, I re-adjusted my backpack and started up to the house. The eyes were still on me but I never turned, pretending not to notice. I started up the driveway as the grinding gears and cloud of diesel fumes saw the bus rumbling off down the road. I never even looked over my shoulder until I was sure that it was out of sight. I calmly walked up to the house, as if the eyes were still on me, evaluating. Carefully pushing open the door, I heard the radio blaring in the kitchen accompanied by clanking pans and dishes. Releived of my audience, I collapsed gratefully onto the couch and thought, "I made it" as I burst into tears.
**
My mother saw my tearstained face and her look reopened the floodgates. I knew I was going to have to tell her what happened, how embarassed I was, how surprisingly sad I was. She sat and wrapped her arms around me, not talking, but humming under her breath like she used to when I was little. Between sniffles I caught snatches of the tune of the lullaby that she used to sing to me every night. It made me feel warm and loved, but still not quite ready to look her in the face and talk about it. As I was sitting at the table, staring at the cup of hot chocolate steaming between my hands, I began my story. It was an old story. Young love, happy and carefree turned to bitterness and betrayal - told time and time again by tearful teenagers to sympathetic mothers and friends. She murmured in all of the right places, nodded seriously when appropriate, and sighed when I did. She tactfully refrained from asking why I was so upset when I was the one who had wanted to break it off.
**
Weeks later I saw him, talking and laughing with friends. I pointedly looked away and put a little more bounce in my step, just to prove I wasn't at all paying any attention to anyone besides my own friends beside me. As the two groups neared, it seemed our pace slowed down, time slowed down. With a mask of calm and confidence I lifted my eyes and glanced around the hallway, oh so nonchalant, pointedly not looking at his group. I felt the eyes staring, but turned away from them and looked over at my friend instead as we passed. She was looking past me, toward the other group in the hall but dutifully looked at me when I had turned. The look on her face surprised me, sadness and worry, what had she seen? Throwing caution into the wind I chanced a look over my shoulder. He was there with his friends, his brown hair carefully messy in his cool and confident way. Leaning against the wall of lockers, laughing at some joke or story. But a newcomer had joined them. She was blond and petite and tall, just a few inches shorter than he was. She was there, in my place, holding his hand.
I didn't want to go, but I had to. I suppose that no one wants to go to court, but I REALLY didn't want to go, but I kinda did too. Divorce court is a bit different I guess, I definately wanted to go and get it over with, but I wasn't looking forward to it. Walking into the room, I saw that my soon-to-be-ex was there already. He already had the stupid weepy expression on his face, practicing for the judge i suppose. He looked hopefully past me to see if I had brought our son, like a two year old should be in the middle of this circus in the making. His eyes snapped to my face, just a quick glint of the mean peeked through his mask of pathetic, but I saw it there. As I was walking to my table with the lawyer, my ex watched me.
As I sat in one of the chairs, I met his eyes again.
"Yeah, go ahead and look" I thought to myself. "I came, I'm here, now what are you going to do?"
**
Talk, and more talk, and more talk. My mind was numbed with talk and talk and talk, would he ever shut up? I hope they paid the court reporter by the amount she typed instead of hourly. It's a common saying that the man who represents himself in court has a fool for a client. Well that was turning out to be true. I sat, making occasional notes on the legal pad before me, idly doodling in the margins when his stories got too ridiculous to bother with. Finally the judges' voice boomed, rumbling a question. My ex responded and stepped down from the witness box, finally. The process moved bravely on, witnesses for him and then for me speaking one by one. Telling tales, some long, some short, some straight out of fantasy, but telling them all just the same to the patiently waiting judge. I spoke last, answering the questions from my lawyer fully without becoming too emotional and sticking strictly with what I remembered happening. It was harder than I thought, to keep my story within bounds, not to stray into the land of exaggeration. Certainly the judge saw that every day and could see right through the cunning lies my ex had already told. The judge explained that we would be at recess while he made his decision, and walked out the door off to the side of the room. I looked over at my ex, he was already staring at me. His mask, unnecessary now, discarded allowed me to see the real person beneath.
A day late and a dollar short, I finally had seen what he was really like, the real him. Yeah, it took a while, but I saw, finally, I saw.
**
Why would they call it a recess? Certainly recess brings up images of palygrounds and laughing children, this was not recess. We stood quietly in the large hallway. Heels echoing up and down as people paced and wandered aimlessly. We were called back in a short time later. I worried that it was too short, did it mean that the judge fell for the emotional side show that my ex had put on? We settled quickly and the judge came in. He began talking and explaining, and suddenly slammed the gavel down and left the room. Finally the word sunk in. I had done it. I had won. I looked over at his table, and met his eyes. This time I was the proud and confident one, this time he was unsure and sad.
I walked out of the courtroom, and into the life that was waiting before me, ready to live.
"I told you," mentally chiding him. "I told you it wouldn't work out like you wanted. This time I came, I saw, and I conquered."
