This is a continuation of The Snap.1
The sun is so bright that I was shading my eyes giving them a chance to adjust. With a deep breath, I began to walk out my driveway and hurry across the street. I had to get off the road, but didn’t want to be spotted by anyone and be forced to explain my current state of distress. Although wanting to sprint to evade detection, I started a slow, non-attention getting jog to a trail head located 100 feet or so down the road. Ducking onto the trail I turned and walked backwards to scan the horizon for anyone who may have seen me, there was nobody looking. Come to think of it there was no body anywhere, it was real quiet for the middle of a Saturday morning. I’m not really certain if it was actually as deserted and quiet as I thought or if the psychological fog I was in was so dense that it blocked out perception and sound in addition to rational thought. I came to an opening at the top of a small hill and paused to take in the possibilities of my next steps. I need to get to my brothers house in North Carolina, it will be safe for me there. A new start, maybe take on a new name and just drop off the grid. These are the kinds of thoughts rushing through my head as I continued to walk across the vacant and peaceful plain covered in ankle high field grass which moved in unison according to the slightest leading of the wind.
I remembered that I had sky miles left and figured that flying would be quicker than walking. I continued to follow a brush laden ravine which would spit me out on the other side of town right next to my sisters apartment. After an hour of pushing my way through head high brush and wishing I had packed a machete I found myself standing in front of my sister. Emotionally overwhelmed, I could barley form a sentence. Through the rapid breaths and the tears I was able to communicate that things were not alright and I needed a ride out of here. I went into her bathroom and closed the door behind me. This was the first time I was looking at myself since I the ordeal in the closet. I closed my eyes, placed my hands on either side of the sink and leaned forward. I could feel myself nearing the mirror hanging on the wall. I slowly opened my eyes. Peering into the reflection in front of me I could hardly recognized myself. My eyes were swollen and sunken with a inconsistency in the coloring of my pupils that made me wonder if I was really looking at me. My face was pale and stained with dirt and tears. I needed to pull myself together and get out of here. I washed off my face and made my way to the car. Without anymore questions she drove me an hour to the airport and dropped me off. I told my sister I loved her and gave her a huge hug. She didn’t know that my intentions were to never return to San Diego again.
Well, there I was at the airport. I had my ticket and 20 hours to kill. I met my very first lesbian within an hour! So that was a good distraction. She did not wear lipstick and she was having girl trouble also. Her Maria was, and I quote, “Col Trippin.. I aint playin ya know?” I’m gonna be honest here, I didn’t, and still don’t know if that was a question or a statement so I just threw my arms up in agreement and said, “well.. There it is!” That seemed to be an acceptable answer and we spent the next few hours talking. Emotionally I seemed to be leveling out, but there was no turning back for me I was out of here. I called the kids mom from a payphone, this was going to be really tough to get through. We had been divorced for at least 7yrs by this point, but when you know somebody… you just know them. She had spoken to my sister and had very few details, but knew after the first word that I was unable to speak that this was the worst state that I had ever been in. As much as I tried, I was unable to speak without having my entire body heave with emotion and again the floodgates of uncertainty and pain were open. I was able to say that I would eventually be fine, but didn’t know anything else. I couldn’t tell her when I could call the boys next.. I remember asking her to tell the boys that I loved them and that I was sorry. Just speaking of the boys shot excruciatingly painful howls through my soul. I love them so much but had decided that they were better off without me. Hanging up the phone I wiped the river of anguish off my face and found a set of chairs to sleep on until my flight in the morning.
After staying in North Carolina with my brother and his family for a little over a week I finally called #3. I didn’t say a word. Not because I didn’t want to, believe you-me I had plenary to say! I physically couldn’t utter a single word. She did plenary of talking.. Apologizing for what she had done and how she acted and that with me gone she realized that I was….blah blah blah you get what’s happening here… After another week of dialogue and some heavy praying… I decided to head back home. (Ha..it’s funny but even as I typed the word “home” I had to try and think if I was using the right word, sure it was a house… But never was it a home.)
We tried it yet again. Why on earth would I continue to go back? That’s a fair question and one that I have asked myself a few times over the years. At the time I accepted it as an example of unconditional love. That I committed to good times and bad and that only through unconditional acceptance would she turn from her ways and then we could experience marriage the way it was intended. There is a cause/effect relationship to every decision you make.,,had I known then what i know now I would have never come back..
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Next up: The worst day of my life