What goes up must come down...

The kids and I left town for 9 days, and I was doing wonderful. On the ride home I fell apart...completely. Then when I got home I had court the next day. That day was horrible. I took 500 steps back emotionally.

The night before I slept in my old bed at my old house. I layed there and realized that the last time I had slept there was the night before my wedding. A small blow.

My dad took me to a coney island across the street from the court house the next day because we were early. I remember feeling like I was floating down the sidewalk, almost like I wasn't really there. I of course couldn't eat or drink anything, because...ya know...I was on my way to have (at least) the next 5 months of my life, and my children's well being, dictated by a judge who sees my situation a million times a year, and has probably become numb to the searing pain that divorce causes.

And then something happened that I didn't expect. Richie for the most part has disgusted me this last month. When I have looked at him I've seen a horrible monster. But on Monday I was sitting on a court bench waiting, and when he stepped off the elevator he stole my heart. He had gotten a hair cut and looked just like he did on our wedding day. I could have folded like a cheap suit, and I really wanted to...but I didn't, because I'm stubborn and prideful. I can't let him know that he's destroyed me. Well that's a lie, I have told him that before, but now the only way to survive is to be a bitch. Things are too far gone to let him know that I'm still capable of crumbling.

Everything moved so fast and I was completely snowed over. I agreed to things that I usually wouldn't, because quite honestly I was checked out. When I needed to be checked in the most, I was checked out. The one thing that I do remember? When the judge spoke my children's names. I did crumble for a few minutes. I whimpered.

I cried most of the way home. My poor dad.

Then I crumpled up in my old bedroom and I sobbed. The kind of cry that shakes your body, and gives you a headache.

Where did he go? Where is my husband?

This is not the person that I dated, or married. This isn't the person that held my hand as I gave birth to our sweet babies, and this definitely isn't the man that baptized me. I wish that someone could make this make sense. Where is MY Richie? This Richie that blindsided me with the worst pain of my life is not MY Richie.

I cried the rest of the day. It felt like the day that he served me divorce papers all over again. I cried for the man who's smile could fix anything, the man that I would lay next to at night. I cried for those kisses and hugs that I will never have again. But most of all I cried for all of the future hopes and memories that died overnight. No more Christmas mornings as a family, no more family dinners, no more trips...nothing. I'll never lure him home from work early with my chicken and dumplings again. I'll never bake him a birthday cake. And the absolute worst? There will never be another baby that draws it's first breath because we loved each other.

If this isn't the worst feeling in the world, then I hope I never know what is.