It was the week before Christmas.
Normally, I’d be sitting under my big tree, basking in the glow of a million tiny blinking lights, but nothing was normal this year.
We were busy, selling whatever we could as quickly as possible– even the Christmas decorations from right off my wall. The atmosphere was somber, not jolly, and the room was congested with fear and concern.
We had to leave everything behind, and the best case scenario was to sell it for pennies that we so desperately needed.
It had been an exhausting 24 hours, and no one had slept. I had been shocked, afraid, lost, and confused. I mourned every little piece of my life as I handed it over with a smile. I didn’t have it in me to be upset, or to care.
I had to smile because I couldn’t cry. Under the expressions on my face, I had no expression at all.
The phone calls were coming in faster than I could answer them. Family. Friends. Friends of family and friends. I delivered the story in a quick and even-toned monotone, often with bouts of hysteric laughter sprinkled in.
It was funny how funny it wasn’t.
Then he called, and I answered the same as I answered the other hundred calls.
I think he might have been drinking. I imagine that he had come home late from the office, as usual, gone to the bar, drank a few pints, and then looked at his phone and said, “Bugger.”
He missed a call from me. He read my email. I imagine he swore quite a bit more. It was nighttime there, but daylight here and the rain splashed softly behind his voice as he skipped the pleasantries and cut to the chase– was I okay, and did I need him? He could be on a plane in an hour. He could be here in 12.
I cried then. I shook so hard the phone fell out of my hands and when I could finally pick it up, I soothed myself to the worried hums of my best friend.
The one I’ve never met in person.
The one my parents thought was probably a stalker, back in 1998.
The one who owns a piece of my moon.
The one my parents thought I’d marry, back in 2002.
The one my husband looks to for advice.
No, I said. He didn’t need to come. I didn’t know what the coming days would herald, or if I’d even have a place to be in 12 hours. Besides, he had already given me everything I needed.
I needed to know someone who knew me through all my worst moments could still believe in me. I needed to know that one of my own personal seven wonders of the world was still standing strong. I needed to cry and embrace the fire inside me– something I spent most of my life learning to suppress.
A riot of thoughts and emotions hit me at once. Insanity: we might finally meet over this. Upset: we might never meet because of this.
Magnitude: a stupid lie was destroying my life.
The intensity manifested in a wild outpouring of rage and agony. I was sobbing, shaking, but more importantly– finally– I was blindingly, furiously angry.
My fingers tightened into a fist and he asked again if I was okay.
Not yet, I said.
But I’d fight till I was.
______________________________________
__________________________________
Daily Prompt: Describe the last time you were surprised by the intensity of a feeling you had about something, or were surprised at how strongly you reacted to something you thought wouldn’t be a big deal. http://dailypost.wordpress.com/2013/11/05/daily-prompt-intense/
* Title from the New Radicals’ song, Someday We’ll Know
Do you have any online-only friends that you count amongst your BFFs? Are you done decorating by December 1st like me, or are you a last-minute Christmas person?
