I knew the day would happen. I knew when it was, just not where it was. I had been thinking about it, knowing it was off there in the distance, hovering like a fog on the horizon.
And then it came. I awoke and the day felt different. And then they came. The memories forced from places walled off long ago, as though my mind was predetermined to just well, completely fuck with me.
And then I looked at the date. And remembered. I remembered what it was like to walk out of the courthouse two years ago, simultaneously laughing and holding back the tears that were welling up in my eyes. I remembered the feeling of loss, and remembered the feeling of happiness in knowing that the long arduous journey through hell was over.
But even though I remembered those feelings, I did not feel them now. I felt numb. There were no emotions. The day just felt weird. Neither good nor bad, jut weird.
And then the call came. The call that I had been wanting to happen for a while now. The call that changed a lot. The call that was to the casual observer nothing more than a call, nothing more than ordinary business. The call that told me it had arrived, and was ready for me....
And with that singular phone call, arrangements were made to trade in the car that my ex-wife and I had picked out together. And the call came on the two-year anniversary of my divorce being finalized.
And now, the last tie has been severed. The last daily reminder, the last ghost, is gone. And now I feel more like myself than I have in a long time.
I just wish gas prices would stop going up.