Oh, man, was it a mood. The shelf didn't work out so I had to go back to Menards to get a new one, crying the whole way there. Luckily, I can hear my dad coming up steps, so I could stave off the tears. Nobody needs to see me like that.
I thought about everything that happened - what he did that I couldn't stand the touch of him, how he proposed...and my mind starting connecting the other awful bits of this business, the way my mother treated me, during the wedding planning and the way she treated me after the breakup. My head was swirling with the most depressing thoughts, floating around, knocking against my skull, and I was crying, crying because I didn't have anyone to talk to about this horrible thing, which is just as well, I think, because if I did, it would have been hours of whiny, and I hate that. I hate that it still pops into my head, the clusterfuck of my twenties, how I wish I had broken up with him before we got engaged, maybe, just maybe, he wouldn't have done what he did, maybe then I wouldn't have learned that my mother would turn into Momzilla over my fucking wedding, more maybes that would never happen because it's in the past. Even if I went back in time to my younger self, she wouldn't have believed what will transpire in her future because you never anticipate that your loved ones would hurt you so deeply that you wish you would die because suddenly the mask slips off and you realize that you've never been important, it's about them, it's always been about them, and they've never given a shit about you, and it just sits there laid out naked and raw, something awful that you can't look at but can't look away. I had dreams once, but I don't even try to anymore because I hate feeling disappointed in something I can't control because it's a useless endeavor and why feel that when you can't change the outcome.
I knew it was there always lurking in a drawer, hiding, waiting for the random moment when I'd clean out my drawers and completely forgot I put there and then I'd see it and put it on, feeling sad and hopeless and angry all at the same time. Oh, how that hurt! I said I wasn't in the mood. Did you enjoy yourself while I cried silently to myself hoping that this would be quick so that I could go kill myself? I'm sorry you didn't realize that you hurt me until you saw me crying, and no, no apology in the world wouldn't work, it couldn't work, I was afraid and confused and scared that you just did that, I was ashamed and didn't want anyone to know, and hell, even I didn't want to know. And being young and stupid I tried - oh, how I tried! - but it always lurked there in the back of my head that you were not safe and would never be safe and in twenty years one day I'd wake up and just kill you wearing a remorseless and resigned mask because my soul would have long been drained out of my body and all that would be left is a shell of a once carefree human. And my mother would stand by and cheerlead it all with the unrelenting attitudes that made her annoying in the first place that we could finally bond as mother and daughter and I'd have to fake like I wanted the advice from someone who prided herself on how she was fierce mother and how she kept us safe when in reality every day at school was fresh new horror of how I'd be bullied by the entire fucking class...no, not just one or two bullies, but everybody, my pleas to switch schools falling on deaf ears, finally sneaking the rum from the cabinets at 11 because nobody believed me and I'd lost hope and resigned myself to this hellish existence, none of my teachers brought it up to my parents, and one said anything to my parents about it, not that she'd believe them anyway. And this was the woman that would run my wedding and do everything that she didn't get to do, and was mad enough when her wish fulfillment vehicle struck back and broke it off with the fiancee that she made it clear that he'd always be welcome in HER house.
"I swear to God, Cuz, it's cursed or something," said after spending yet another day packing until 1 am. "I mean, I don't believe that it is really but sometimes I think it is. All of my relationships end like this, maybe it's keeping me from meeting someone who happens to know what respect means, but really, maybe not. I'll never get that close to getting married again. He's gonna have to be insanely exceptional for that to happen, and since my standards are apparently too high at 'basic respect' and 'actually listens to me', and not 'project assumptions on me even when I've said and done the complete opposite'. I mean, why do they do that? Why are they surprised when I say something, like we've never had this conversation before, because you know me, it's not like I'm SHY about my views or anything. I just don't get why this is pattern with all of them. I've done serious soul searching, and since I'm the only constant in my relationships, I'm the one who must be doing something wrong. For the life of me, I can't figure it out. So it's nice to sometimes think it's not me."
And in a flurry of boxes, papers, all sorts of whatnots, it was found after the move. One last time, my brain said, one last time to wear it. I put it on. Do you really want to get rid of it? It's so pretty. You probably will never get another one of those ever. Are you really sure? Two pictures, then it was off my hand and into the box, off to the jewelers to be sold and never heard from again because it had to go and it was very ridiculous that I'd had it that long. "Are you sure?" the lady asked when she told me the price. I hesitated for a moment - gone forever whispering in my head - and said "Yes".
In the car, I shed a few tears. "It's okay to cry," my cousin said, "he was a big part of your life at one time." I was quiet for a moment, wiping away a tear, then said, "I remember when he gave it to me. It was just like him not have the ring sized or how it would look. It was all diamonds and too small. When I put it on, I said, 'Is this for your other girlfriend?' And then I went home and my mother freaked out. 'Is that a friendship ring?' 'No, mom, it's an engagement ring, but it's not completed yet, there's rubies that go here and here.' 'What, it's not ALL diamonds?' I just stood there for a moment because that was silly. She was so mad at my dad for keeping it a secret from her."
And then I started the car to head home and unpack the boxes, thinking about how I was going to arrange all of the furniture I had crammed into the computer room.
(Updated for spelling/grammar/memory errors.)
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