It was December 2001 and that was when I started to "clean house".
J was in jail, sitting on warrants out for his arrest, for unpaid support.
This was the third time. I couldn't afford to keep bailing him out, especially when we was running from the law (all of which I didn't know until AFTER the wedding!).
I got pissed. I was upset. I was angry. I cried. I screamed. I hated him. I was mad at what he did to me. I was mad for what he did to our family. I was hurt. I started packing boxes, filling then with everything that belonged to him. I piled everything in the back of his van. In the boxes, just to be mean (kinda), I threw in a couple of our wedding invitations, just for the "turning the knife" factor.
I then spoke with the attorney on New Year's Eve, signed on the lines, and they served him the papers while he sat in jail. I had my doubts, I had my fears, I didn't trust him, but his van was packed, his stuff was out of my house, and the keys were in the vehicle, waiting for him to drive away.
1 comment:
Love the last line "-waiting for him to drive away". The implication that your decision was so final, and the choice to move on wasn't his to make anymore. Brilliantly done. And congrats. Cleaning house like that can be difficult when you on your own and you certainly earn the "attagirl" on that one!
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