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By Abogada Submitted by Abogadalbny Date: 2006 Jun 10 Comment on this Work [[2006.06.10.18.23.31457]] |
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I promised Steve [my lawyer] that I would meet him today to pick up the "garbage bags containing my legally separate property" that James had so kindly dumped at his attorney's office for me. I dreaded it all day, and honestly didn't want any of whatever James felt I was entitled to. Steve arranged to meet me at the loading dock of the Mercantile Building off Walnut and Fourth, where his office is located. I drove down the dark icky drive of the loading dock and saw Steve waiting there for me. I will perhaps always remember that he didn't even ask me how I was holding up, as he threw the garbage of my former marriage and former life into my trunk. I vowed that if I ever became a domestic relations attorney, I would always remember to ask people how they are holding up. I know all too well that even if you look alright, you are usually dying inside and feeling like yesterday's trash, which is how I felt at that moment. I shook the whole way home. It seemed to me that these things of mine smelled of James. I did not want to be near anything he had touched. I felt that I was going to throw up from all the tension and all the pain. I cried most of the way home, thinking mostly about Dr. Peters, my "life coach," and how she said that I needed to keep crying in order to let all the pain out of my heart. I ripped open the bags when I got into the house. There was little inside. I wondered for a time if James would throw his platinum wedding band in a bag, or a letter of hate or something like that. Of course there was nothing of the sort. I drank vodka, smoked, and read the entire transcript of James' deposition. It lacked character and emotion, as did James. It seemed appropriate to me that the ending would be as loveless as the marriage. |