Bad things have happened in the past week. I have bruises all over my arms, trying to heal, although I keep finding more as the days pass...on my chest and my back. I know there are some things I could have done to have avoided the confrontation that happened, but at the time, I was angry and unwilling to accept that my space was going to be invaded. In short, I mouthed off to my step dad while he was drunk and then locked myself in the bathroom. He got in and came at me, so I pushed him away...very aggressively. I've never been scared of him, or really anyone as of lately, mostly because he's never raised a hand to me and has said hurtful things, but those things were true so they didn't really count. I wasn't scared to push him because I thought it would snap him out of a rage I'd never seen in him, but it did the opposite. He grabbed my arms and pushed me back against the towel holder on the wall. I slapped his hands away and pushed him again and he grabbed my throat. My mom pulled him away and stepped between us, screaming at him that I was pregnant, and all the while, I was not afraid, but infuriated, because I have been beaten up by both my father and first stepfather and refused to be bullied again by another grown man. When he left the bathroom, my arm was swelling and my belly was killing me from my mother being pressed against it in my defense. I was hyperventilating and almost left that night, but I didn't. I didn't sleep well that night, unable to sleep on my left side, stomach, or back. My right side was my only slight comfort, and that ached as well. The next day, the bruises were in full glory: 4 on my left arm, 2 on my right arm, 1 on my back, 1 on my shoulder, and 1 on my neck/chest. I came home from work and stepped into my mom and stepdad's room. Jude was watching tv with him and jumped down from the bed to hug me. My stepdad looked down and then started to cry. We talked. I didn't want that to be the end of the first real dad I'd ever had. After 8 years of knowing him, I'd never known him to do anything like that before. Anything. We were on eggshells for a couple of days, and now things are essentially back to normal, except when he looks at me, his eyes are cloudy and mine are tired. I haven't seen him drink all week.
I am on a leave of absence from work. I feel more alone than ever. I feel disconnected from my friends and family, but I'm trying to mend everything together. I get to see Tahiri's dad on Monday, and I'm going to keep a low profile this weekend, just loving on my son and trying to relax. I thought today was going to be bad, but then, the sun came out and the breeze was perfect, and I left work heavy hearted but full of optimism.
You can tell a lot about a person from what is in their shopping cart. I went to Walmart...for diapers, pull-ups, kitty litter, and watermelon. I left after shelling out 175 dollars. It started out simply enough. I went to find watermelon and got the last package, then saw the raspberries and tossed them into the cart as well. Then, I went down the frozen aisle, for sherbet, but ended up getting some ben and jerry's as well. Then I saw the cookies and got lemon wafers and soft baked chocolate chip cookies. I got raspberry and blackberry jello. I got beef jerky. I got various flavors of yogurt, including cherry cobbler, mango, strawberry cheesecake, cinnamon roll, and both blackberry and cherry pomegranate. I passed the juice and debated on getting this mango lemonade bathhouse farms drink. I decided to splurge to get it. Finally, I made my way to the diapers and pull-ups. But then, I was in baby territory. I looked at carseats and boosters, and blankets and high chairs. I felt my belly and butterflies lit up my ribcage. I started humming, which I realized I've been doing more of lately as I skimmed the newborn onesies. I grabbed three packages. I started looking at the little girl's clothes and almost cried, realizing that I was finally going to get my wish, the wish I'd had since I was 8 years old, when I would draw pictures of a dark haired girl with fierce blue eyes, the wish that was stolen from me when I was 16. I picked out about a half dozen summer dresses in both 0-3 months and 3-6 months. Then, I started for the other side of the store, where I picked up Valentine's cards for Jude's class-Mickey Mouse Clubhouse, two new books, and finally, the kitty litter. While I'm emptying my basket onto the conveyor belt, an hour after arriving with a four item list, I laugh to myself for the splurge. But it's worth it. It's all very worth it.
I go home to find that not only are my Killers concert tickets waiting on me, but also a letter from the school telling me my diplomas are ready to be picked up. My stepdad offers to pay for the tickets, which I accept with a knowing smile. "And also, if Aaron wants to hit me, I think that would make me feel better too." I laugh. "He doesn't want to hit you, I don't think." I go to my mom's shop, where there is beauty salon gossip swirling around in the air. I feel comfortable there, the daughter of the owner. She trims my hair, blow drying it into luscious layers and I sigh, knowing that as long as I look for the good in things, I'll find them. My bruises will heal, my daughter is coming in 4 short months, and the Killers are even sooner than that. I'm a college graduate with a family, who, although are not perfect, make up for their actions and teach me things that I need to learn. And as abandoned as I feel sometimes, I know that I'll always run to the man I love, and I know that he will receive me with open arms and a nonchalant shrug. But that's what I asked for, and that's what I've got.
