It was the hardest phone call I have ever made in my life.
I might have been more nervous and sick than the ride to the court house when I was seventeen, going to meet my dad for the first time.
I have no idea how extensive this investigation will be. I don’t know if I’ll be harassed. Or if they’ll be harassed. So, I had to tell them. Its been a long time coming. So I made the call.
I stepped outside. There’s so much more room to breath. I took my glass of wine and sat on the tailgate of our truck waiting for them to call at our agreed time- seven thirty. I was shaking. I closed my eyes and swallowed a few times telling myself I would not throw up and to calm down. My self-lecture was interrupted by loud thunder and I saw lightning as I opened my eyes. The clouds looked pregnant and I begged God to hold off the rain…
“I just want to sit out here to tell them, where I can breath…please, God. Please.”
The phone rang and I talked. It was a very brief conversation. My hands were shaking so much I could barely hang up the phone. I hung my head, let out a huge unstable sigh, and then tears came. I heard tiny clinks on my wine glass and felt the cold pellets of water on my head and then, more thunder. I looked up into the sky.
“Thank you” I told Him.
As soon as I opened the front door, I saw my husband’s face wide eyed and waiting for me to say how it had gone. I don’t remember what I said, just that I sobbed into his shirt and felt nothing in my limbs. Was there even blood running through my body? Then, I headed to the shower.
So now they know.
I wasn’t expecting the abuse to find its place back inside my stomach where it churns and aches. I wasn’t expecting that. I’ve dealt with it. In fact, I’ve forgiven him for his adult hands on my child skin. I’ve forgiven him. But something happened when I told them that had me staring into space as I sat on the couch, at my desk, and as I sat in my bathtub with the water falling onto my face. Something that had me touching my own arm to make sure I was real and this wasn’t a dream. I completely checked out.
I think that deep down inside there was a piece of the hurt, as fresh as the first day, that I sealed away until I let them in on my secret. Maybe I always knew I’d tell them. Perhaps it just wasn’t one hundred percent real until they did know. Either way, I know it was important. I didn’t know how important until I felt the disgust again, as fresh as the first day.