Well, the papers arrived yesterday and when they had my name wrong on the mailing label I did fret for a moment that all of it would have to be done again but no – I guess they weren’t using a mail merge but just some soul typing out a label…
We had a disagreement in text message format the other day. I was at the peak of my exhaustion, bitterly laughing at all my efforts, and telling my tree how ridiculous it all was. Thee and me – that, the promise. And he asked about my doctor appointment as his insurance is all I have, that he kept it for another month. A true kindness, do not get me wrong. In my bitterness and brevity I said I’d cancelled it – as I had. He managed to get me only a week to move. I cannot spare a day for that. He pressed me to rebook it before the insurance ended. A part of me rose dark and angry, wanting to spit out that, effective a few days ago, it was no longer his business but I settled her as best I could in the moment.
My mind returned to a statement of a friend, “…that motherfucker shoulda seen to you settled not just to the gate.” I do enjoy his strict frankness – very little smoothing of language to suit an audience. I keep thinking about that because in a way he is absolutely right. A man might do this to a woman but…a Man ought to see that she is at least safe. I know he thinks that the proceeds will suffice – all will be well with a thick bank account. But he doesn’t consider no one likes to risk a lease on the unemployed – that a large piece of that…largesse…will go toward a promise that I will not reneg on the lease. He didn’t understand anything, really, about the civilian world.
Well, I have worked with all that uncertainty. I have moved heavy things alone, I have managed to keep a house whole when my psyche was splattered against its walls. And I am exhausted by it all. And yet there is still a lot of road to cover in a very short amount of time. A busy week ahead…and a heart-rending one. One dog will go off to wait for me in Valhalla and the other will return from whence she came. She will, at least, have dogs to play with. I tell myself that along with other small lies to make the decision tolerable. I know what I can manage, now, and it is very little, indeed. I made the call to the breeder, explaining my situation, holding up until the end when I just had to thank them and hang up. And my legs refused to stand. I went to my knees, wracked with emotion, weeping with the decision and knowing it was all I could do. It was the best solution I could manage. I allowed myself that mourning, a few minutes only because there was yet more to pack. My God, what it takes to just stand when you’ve so little left. The wind dried the tears and I settled into it again. The rain was coming, after all.
Should have seen me settled…it is a romantic thought, really. That kind of…chivalry. But I can no longer afford to believe in it. I have been scoured of that level of trust. I have been made new, that devastating fire forging a thing that will be more demanding, more disdainful, whose mouth will twist far more often at the tender ministrations. He has carved into my visage sharp lines of betrayal that convey my doubt, my absolute failure to believe that anyone will get through. And the truth of it is that those very lines are what will prevent anyone from trying.