Monday, October 22, 2007

Boy, can I call ‘em or what? Bub’s gf came to visit him last Wednesday and hasn’t left since, nor has she any intention of doing so imo. He says he’s in luuuurve and that his feelings have been reciprocated. My god, what an ass...

And yes Wien, he does indeed come to me for love advice since I am the one who knows him best. But I brought this upon myself, and for good reason I might add, as I try very hard to keep him friendly and happy with me because, quite frankly, life is so much easier when he is. But also for the absolute sadistic enjoyment I (and sooo many others) get out of his idiotic antics. As I’ve said before, the entertainment value alone is simply priceless.

I’ve got my midterms already, A’s in writing and Govt., B’s in Hist and psych. I’ll take those; I haven’t the need for absolute perfection. As long as I can stay this course I’ll be quite pleased with my first college semester experience. Em, of course, has a deeply ingrained need for perfection and is freaking completely out with her one B in GT math, despite all A’s elsewhere. I can’t help wondering if she would have been this way were it not for Bub’s incessant demands for such? Perhaps its best never know what might have been. Those damn “only if’s”...

Now, since some of you have asked, here is the final version of my narrative writing essay “The Great Escape”. It is, of course, about THAT day, though a condensed version, as I didn't feel the details and a completely accurate timeline were necessary to it’s telling.

The Great Escape

The day dawned quietly with a muggy threat of rain in the air. HE had gone to work that morning, thank goodness, as his work habits were unreliable at best. The likelihood of ever changing scenarios played constantly in my head, knowing his tendencies the way I do. But the plans had long been laid, meticulously thought out, ducks formidably in a row, and now as the low trailer backed quietly into the drive my heart began to beat wildly in my chest. My mind racing with all that must be done in the precious little time that I had. No, I can’t think of the “what ifs” now, no time for that, there’s work to be done. I was doing the right thing, I was certain of that. It was no longer a matter of want anymore; it hadn’t been for some time now. Not since I realized the affect my further inaction would likely have on our lives... her life really. And so the time had finally come to delve into the deep abyss of fear and uncertainty… to carry out the finely orchestrated plan of our great escape.

My brother, having successfully parked the trailer and let down the tail, walked up to me gently, unsure of how to proceed “Hey sis, are you ready?” My resolve gave way to fear, and then quickly to sorrow. Was I ready? It had been a long row to hoe on this journey into oblivion, but this really was the day, my freedom so tangibly at hand. Yet the reality of what I was about to do came crashing suddenly down. Eyes welling and chest heaving I spun around and raced back inside, dodging the half packed boxes along the way. In the bathroom then, palms pressed firmly atop the stained old vanity, head hanging low as the tears rolled freely down my face from the body wracking "ugly cry" as Oprah calls it. At last I slowly raised my head, meeting my own determined red-rimmed eyes in the mirror as I let out a long hitching breath. This is it; the time has come, no going back now. One last sob is all I would allow myself before wiping the tears from my pallid cheeks and stepping back out to face the uncertainty that lie ahead.

The next few hours were a blur of throwing belongings into boxes and hauling the heavier items that I meant to take with me out to the trailer. My brother and I moving quickly and efficiently; never even a hint of the anger and criticism I had grown so accustomed to throughout the years of far too many moving days with HIM. I made mental note of the ease with which we worked so I could remind myself later of yet another thing I realized I wasn’t incompetent at, as I had always been led to believe. Never again would I spend another moving day (or any other for that matter) living in fear of inevitably doing something wrong, and the rage and marathon lecture sure to follow. The relentless record playing in my head, you’re not listening, you don’t know how to communicate, you’re selfish, you’re lying, you don’t try, that’s not good enough, there’s something wrong with you, you’re broken. Same shit different day... and more often than not, the same day.

As we worked HE called to let me know that he wasn’t feeling well and would likely come home early. I expected as much, no surprises there, we quickened our pace. Not long until the last of it was securely tied down and ready to go. I took one final look around at the last place we would ever share, laid the note where HE couldn’t possibly miss it, and then shut the door with a resounding thud. I dialed the phone, my heart in my throat. “You’ll need to find another ride home,” I said, “I moved out today.” “What?!” he bellowed in HIS way. “I moved out today. I’m safe, she’s safe... it’s over.” flipping the phone shut, I thought I might vomit. I turned off the phone. Dear God, what have I just done? I saved us, that’s what... and the feeling passed.

I stopped to pick my precious girl up early from school, making sure not to take any chances. She skipped out giddily, knowing why I was there. Never again would she have to spend another day living in fear of inevitably doing something wrong, and the rage and marathon lecture sure to follow. Breaking the relentless record playing in her own head; that’s not good enough, you’re not good enough, I expect better, I expect more, that’s stupid, you’re lying, you’re broken, I’ll break you… The freedom to finally be a kid sparkled vibrantly in her eyes as she hugged me tightly and asked, “Is it all done?” “Yes baby” I replied wearily, “all done.” With an extra squeeze of her little girl arms around my waist she whispered, “Then let’s go home mom, our home.” Yes home, where the heart is, because that’s all that truly matters. And so home we finally went.

5 Comments:

Blogger Wien. said...

That was fantastic!! I was living it all over again with you. You did such a good job of transporting us all there with you at each moment of your escape, bravo! It took me back to that day when we all sat on the other side of our computer screen, hearts beating wildly for you, and being hardly able to contain the anxiety of hearing that you were 'home' safe.
(Big sigh here) How good it must feel for both you and Em.
Congrats on your grades too, and keep up the good mom work with Em. It's hard to break the cycle of having to be perfect, so I wish you both luck. I'm still fighting my perfection, or lack of as it were. It's a battle, but you're winning.
And...if this comment isn't long enough, too funny about mr. lovelife. I had a feeling he'd be asking you for advice. My ex did at first as well. I could only try so hard to contain the laughter at what an idiot he was and still is.
So, good luck and fill us in!

12:09 AM  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

EXCELLENT!!! You have come a long way! Keep up the great work.

Lyn

8:52 AM  
Blogger Sandi said...

Wow - even though I know the story - the tears welled up anyway! I was never more proud of you on that day!!!

Good job with the grades!

Love Ya!

Sandi

12:41 PM  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

EXCELLENT writing! Would love to know what your prof said about it!

1:04 PM  
Anonymous Aunt Sandy said...

Awesome! I knew you had talent! That is so eveident in that piece.
I do love your writing style. Keep it up. There is a novel in there somewhere I just know it.

1:43 PM  

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