(Note: This is an excerpt from the longest post ever (15 pages) which I choose not to post. The original post could be broken down into 10 posts, but I think I'll just leave you with a little excerpt.
Yo Serenity23, maybe a secret blog is coming your way at the beginning of the year... who knows, whoadie?)
Two years ago today, on December 16, 2003, I was divorced.
...So one night, in October of 2003 we were talking on the phone, and I asked Oldboy what he wanted to do.
“Get a divorce,” he said.
“Yeah,” I breathed.
I remember calling my best friend Lady Tee on the phone that night at one o’clock in the morning, crying on the phone about the whole situation. She told me to go pray, which I did.
I eventually realized that I wasn’t upset about the divorce. My marriage was one of the brokest (is that a word?), loneliest, and depressing times of my life, and I needed to get out of it and go on with my life. The quality of my life had increased many orders of magnitude while Old boy and I were separated.
I was terribly and utterly upset about the failure of it all.
I CAN’T STAND FAILURE.
December 16, 2003, was the day of the divorce. I remember sitting at a long table in front of the female judge at the Fulton County courthouse in Atlanta, Georgia.
Old Boy was sitting there dressed to the nines in a cream suit with a matching cream hat, his hair long and wavy. I’d been staring at him in awe. A wanna be pimp, I thought quietly to myself.
The judge asked Old Boy, “Are you sure that there is no chance of the two of you getting back together?”
He looked at me, speechless.
“No!” I answered for him.
The judge looked at me over her square, black-rimmed glasses. “I’m not asking you. I’m asking him.”
“No,” he mumbled after a few seconds of both the judge and myself staring at him. He looked down at the table.
At that time, I felt terrible. I could see the pain on his face. I should have done more, tried to go for counseling, something.
But in all my selfishness, I didn’t.
And at that moment, I realized it was truly over.
We’d been at the courthouse for a couple of hours. I was a little fidgety after sitting still for so long. We walked out of the courthouse together and I started towards the train station.
“Ladylee, I’ll give you a ride home!”
“That’s alright. My car is parked at the College Park train station. I’ll just catch the train.”
“Well at least let me give you a ride up the street to the Five Points train station.”
I could see that he was not going to leave me alone. Five Points was only three or four blocks from the courthouse. I didn’t see a problem with that.
He stopped on Peachtree street in front of the Peachtree station. He looked over at me as I fumbled with the door. I looked back at him, not saying anything. Those were the longest couple of seconds of my life.
I got out of the car. I glanced back over my shoulder and he was still sitting there watching me walk into the station. I walked through the turnstile, knowing that I would never ever see him again.
It has been two years. He’s tried to contact me recently, leaving extremely vague messages on my cell phone. I never answer. I’m not into the friendship thing, the friends with benefits thing, and we don’t have kids together. There’s no use in him trying to contact me.
A couple of my co-workers are curious.
“Aren’t you curious about what he’s doing?”
“He might have your half of the lotto money!”
“Well, he better leave a message about that!” I replied.
I don’t travel down the same road twice.
I’d stop picking up my phone line at work when an outside call was coming in. A couple of coworkers were curious and even picked up my phone line a couple of times. (It was never him).
I don’t know what he wants. Not willing to find out. I hope wherever he is…
…He is happy and well.
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