When does the “goods” outweigh the “bads”? When is “enough” enough? At what point do you cross that line that you have been staring at in the distance for months?
(I know it's long... but let's be honest.... what else are you doing??!!..)
Saturday afternoon I threw a wedding shower for a friend of mine at my parent’s house. Naturally. Their house is way cooler than mine and significantly larger. My piss poor attitude towards never-ending happiness and marital bliss mixed wonderfully with the colors & snack sized sandwiches. I tried my best to put my signature fake smile on. I used extra concealer to cover the remnants of the night before’s nightmares.
He was there.
He’s always there.
The second I close my eyes, and I fight it so fucking hard, he’s there. Offering that glint of hope. “Dreams are a wish your heart makes”. The “what if’s” and “somedays” creep in and manage to poison the following lucid hours, haunting my thoughts.
Sharon was there, his sister in law, and his brother too. Sometimes looking at him, that quick glance or his slightest gesture sends a flood of emotion over me. Sometimes it hits too close to home and for that one tiny fraction of a second, I think it’s him, and I shake my head to jumble the thoughts and make them go away. Eventually they settle and rearrange themselves. The vicious cycle begins again.
Saturday was hard. I was mad. I was angry at myself for allowing myself to feel this way. I was mad at my subconscious for letting him in. Pissed at weddings and marriage and quite frankly irate with mini sandwiches. I could barely look at Sharon and found it almost impossible to make eye contact with his brother. “How am I ever going to get through this?” crept in again. And I let it. “How do I separate them from him?” They were among the few that didn’t walk away. How can I push them away when they have done nothing wrong?
I spent the day in the kitchen with his brother. I spent the day in my thoughts. Holding my breath to hold the tears. Faking excitement over towels and that “really good” knife set.
My phone rings and it’s one of my sisters. She is enroute to the mall with my mother and there is panic in her voice.
Her: Can you go to dad’s place IMMEDIATELY? Mom and I are 20 minutes away and someone broke in. The police are there waiting.
Me: Holy shit. Ok. On my way.
My father has a business in the center of the city, which is less than a mile from their house. I can’t help but wonder if this is my fault. If the “letter writer” has struck again? If this break in has something to do with the one at my office?
I speed there, recklessly at best. I am expecting numerous cop cars and flashing lights. They pull out all the stops for us around here. My father takes excellent care of them. Much to my surprise there is not one cop car in sight. Not. One.
That’s weird, I think. Maybe they are at the front of the building? So I drive around the block. Nothin.
Confused and beginning to get slightly angrier I sit in my car and wait. You never walk into a building alone. You never walk into a building alone. Fool- STAY IN YOUR CAR DAMNIT!!
I can feel my blood pressure rising as my mother & sister pull up.
We enter together. Everything seems to be ok. Just then, one of the officers pulls up that is a good friend of mine.
He’s overly happy in a nervous laughter way. “Heyyyyy Fool!”.
“Hey, Where the hell were you guys? My dad said you were waiting here for us.”
He lowers his head and raises his hands in surrender. “I was told by my supervisor to CLEAR.”
(CLEAR is when they are told to leave. I bet you’ll never guess who is the only one who has the authority to CLEAR?)
“Is Captain Cocksucker (Shamus) working tonight by any chance? I ask bluntly.
“Fool, I was told by my SUPERVISOR to CLEAR” he emphasizes.
“Ok, buddy. That’s all I need to know. “
“Don’t you get me in the middle of anything!” he yells as he gets back into his patrol car.
“NEVER!” I respond as I slam my car door shit.
I begin to shake. I get back to my parents and I can hardly catch my breath. His brother & sister-in-law are there to pick up the pieces again. I scream and rant. So angry I can't even cry. I will never push them away.
He has been following me- Shamus -for weeks. To the point that I considered switching cars with my friend for a few days just to prove a point. I write down when I see him but somehow I wonder if that would do anything anyway. I see him parked down the street from my house. I know he knows what I am doing at ALL times and with whom. We’ve played this game before. It almost used to flatter me. Who am I kidding? It did. Because in some sick twisted way it meant he cared. I put up with it. I have and I continue to for years and years and he suffers no consequences. He never has.
He can play his little games with me all he wants. I am used to it and I have come to expect it from him. It’s about power and it’s about control. However, I WILL NOT tolerate putting my family in jeopardy. My father literally saved his life… and this is how they treat him? Not acceptable.
I have been trying to nail down my father all week to tell him what happened as he was out of town and I am pretty sure will flip out when he finds out the truth. I want him to call the Chief and play dumb and just ask “Hey what happened at my place? & why did no one stay?” ( It is procedure to wait for a key holder, FYI.) If the complaint comes from my father, I have a feeling it will be taken a little more seriously.
I attempted to talk to my mother about this.
ME: “I need dad to call the Chief about that incident.”
Mom: “NO! We are not playing into the “Shamus Show”. Just ignore him! He’ll get the hint! I want him OUT OF YOUR LIFE Fool” she almost yelled.
ME: “Mom, he’s not stopping. He won’t stop. I can assure you. And in “ignoring” him, all you are doing is making it progressively worse for me.”
She starts talking to my neice.
ME: “Ok. I gotta go.”
I don’t know what else to do, friends. But I seriously don’t know how much more I can take. I am the protector and I can’t protect them. I am the fixer and I can’t fix this. How far is he going to push me.
I am not proud of what I have done but I am thankful for it. I have made so many mistakes. And I have no one to blame but myself. I have no problem taking that blame; however I know in my heart of hearts, I do not deserve this. I know I did the right thing in telling the truth, regardless of my flaws, I know I did what was right.
So at what point does the good outweigh the bad? When is “enough” enough? At what point do you cross that line that you have been staring at in the distance for months?