Jennifer

I reluctantly came out of the bathroom.

If I had my way, I would have continued to stay in there. Listening to my music, The Wallflowers, while smoking my cigarettes. In fact the only reason I did come out was because I was out of cigarettes.

While in there, I was trying to make sense of the events that just happened. Alphonso and I came home and the shit had already hit the fan. Christin is literally running after Pat with an object in hand. Pat ran past Alphonso and I as we were coming in the door, followed by Christin, chasing him outside.

Alphonso and I knew what we had to do. Go make a drink. As he was making his Cosmo, Christin came back inside, headed to her bedroom and slammed the door. Alphonso and I exchanged an all-knowing glance, we knew we would have to do some sort of damage control. We did rock, paper, scissors. He got Christin, and I got Pat. Alphonso went to Christin’s room while I attempted to go outside and find Pat. But not before I made my rum and coke.

I headed out side, cigarette in one hand, drink in the other. I spent about 30 whole seconds, and decided “screw it.” It was too dark, and I knew Pat. If he did not want to be found, he was not going to be found. He would come back when he was ready. He always did. Our house was the safe house.

As soon as I entered the apartment, I knew Alphonso and Christin were talking. I had faith he would have it under control. That is how we worked, that is what made us work. We always knew what needed to be said.

I was getting my clothes together so I could take a quick shower, and that is when I heard it. Christin was telling Alphonso what had happened between her and Pat. I could not believe what I was hearing. How could he do this? I thought Pat and I had something, or at least the very early stages of something.

I lost it. I felt broken. I felt I was not good enough. I wondered what was wrong with me. Surely I must not have done something right if he went to Christin. It was me. I suck. My life was a mess. I had two sons, who I was trying to get back, it was not an easy process. I found comfort in alcohol and Pat. When he would kiss me, I knew that I was pretty. When he hugged me, I felt it mattered. When he wanted to have sex with me, I felt in control. And….and now, I learn that none of that was the case. No one wanted me. No one should. I was a mess.

In that bathroom, closed off, yet, willing to fight Christin over Pat.

When I opened the bathroom door, I had no idea which way this was going to go.
I also did not care. There was not much more I could take.