As we drove (sped) back towards my house, he yelled at me. He demaned to know what I was "on". I must've taken something because of the way I was acting. The way
was acting? I was brokenhearted and scared. I told him to bring me to a friend's house because my parents weren't home. When we got there, I jumped out of the truck, I ran inside and into the bathroom. Apparently, "C" yelled at my friend and my friend yelled at "C"- "What did you do to her?" at the same time.
I have not seen him or spoken to him since.
Until one day this past September when Lindsey called and asked a question that knocked the breath out of me. She wanted to know what his middle initial was, she asked me out of nowhere. She gave me his name- "C", she said, "What's his middle name?" I told her and she asked me how old he was and I thought for a second, out loud, all the while my heart beating in my ears. "Well, he's 4 years older than me, so he's 29. WOW! Why?" She paused and I knew in that half a second that what she was about to tell me was going to be bombshell. "He was arrested for killing his baby." I turned on the news and there he was. He was in handcuffs and black and white stripes. I couldn't stop crying.
Even as I sit here, with a rerun of Gilmore Girls on tv, my adorable husband in the next room and our bags all packed to go to the camp, I'm shaken. I've dealt with the whole story, as much as I could get my hands on. I've dealt with the fact that "It could have been me." He could have been my husband and subsequently the father of my child. I could be living this nightmare. I have also thought of all the other things, too. I'd never let him do that, I would have seen the signs, I would have grown up and out of the obsession and not have let it cloud my judgement. Maybe.
I felt so many things in those few days. It took awhile to go through them all and it still hurts. I still think of those 4th of July celebrations. The fireworks in the skies and between the two of us.
And I thank God for unanswered prayers.
"sometimes i thank God
for unanswered prayers
remember when you're talking to the man upstairs
that just because He may not answer
doesn't mean He don't care
some of God's greatest gifts
are unanswered prayers"