Tonight, An Encounter

A year and a half after the initial PFA, I run into him. Beyond the drive-by fingers that I get, beyond passing his vehicle at work and cringing, beyond the looking over my shoulder and praying that it isn't him...

Not a big scene, though I held my breath and stayed long beyond planning because I was still a bit timid... I didn't know he was there. It looked like his car, but it was dark and as I always do, I reassured myself that it wasn't. But it was.

He made a tiny scene. I don't know who spotted who first; thankfully, there was no eye contact. It lasted a grand total of ten minutes. Ten minutes... that if I could have run I would have; but I have come too far for that. He took enough from me--I refuse to give him that, too.

600 seconds. It shouldn't feel long, but it did. Long enough for him to make a point that he couldn't be there. Long enough that I felt every eye upon me. Long enough that the jukebox played three songs. Black Hole Sun. Ring of Fire. An unknown country song. But I heard and felt everything else in the room around me.

Have you ever been paralyzed? I was. The eternity for him to get a six-pack and leave. Good lords. But I survived. No flattened tires, no smashed windshield, no words between us. He didn't touch me. He did not speak to me. No more words, no more screaming, no more hostility. I survived. And it was a small victory. But much larger than anyone could imagine.

I still was frightened every time the door opened. I struggled with walking back out to my vehicle. A year and a half. Did I want it this way? No. Do I wish we could have parted as friends? I tried to give him that option. He chose this. Not me.

I know his family hates me. He blames me. My family took his side. But they don't know. Well, some of them did; but they painted a different picture. Two years with him. A three year PFA. A good judge that saw through him, saw through my father, saw through it all. Three years. He still has a year and a half to go.

I am still struggling tonight. I was scared again walking into the house. I was scared as I opened the door to come in. But this is no longer a daily occurrence. Most nights I can walk outside without fear. I can sleep without fearing every sound is him. This is victory. One night, one encounter--I must remember I am safe.

I am safe. He cannot touch me. Tonight, I won. Tonight, I survived.

Will I sleep? That is another question all of it's own...