Going to bed early. Eating well. (Well, when it occurs to me.) Talking to those who are a comfort. Using my words. Telling my story. Working out.
There are those who tell me I'll just be victimized all over again. And it wouldn't do any good. LI is going to get away with it. Let it go.
And there are those who tell me that even without the physical evidence, I still have a case. I still have a right to be heard. I didn't do anything wrong.
I told my therapist everything. Yes, everything. And we laughed when I swore to him that I'm right-handed.
And then the couples therapy. That was actually pretty productive. The guy did tell us that it doesn't really seem like we should get back together. And then the husband acted like it mattered. And I told him about LI. And he was actually pretty nice about it.
And then I worked out with Pete Jones. And it was awesome. And I realized that he can never break up with his girlfriend. Because he's the only man I trust right now. And he's been so great to me. Helping me work out frustrations. Helping me focus on being healthy. Telling me that LI was a fucking asshole. Telling me that no matter what happened since, that he hoped Eric would step up and testify about how messed up I was when LI left. Because that would be the right thing to do.
And I'm being patient. And not impulsive.
And three days later, I spoke to a lawyer.
And I'm still just so stunned and grateful for the conversation we had tonight. He is the first person I went into detail with. And he let me cry. And he told me over and over again that it's not my fault. He asked me detailed questions. He told me what my options are. He was really, really good to me. I'm incredibly grateful for the kindness this stranger showed me this evening.
This week has been a rather difficult one. But I'm trying really hard to be good to myself. I haven't written much. I need to catch up. I've got a bunch of middle-schoolers counting on me. I need a good night of sleep tonight. I haven't really gotten one since LI walked through my door a month ago.
So, I'm offering myself the gift of sleep.
I'm not going to think about whether or not Eric would step up to tell the authorities about how I sat on this couch that night, huddled under a blanket, shivering uncontrollably. Or if he would continue to pretend I don't exist and just let me continue to suffer without justice.
I'm not going to think about the people with whom I work who are not quite as dedicated as I am to these amazing kids.
I'm not going to think about how I could have been on a transatlantic flight tonight.
I'm not going to think about the fact that my husband actually asked me out on a date for tomorrow evening.
I'm not going to think about any of that.
I'm just going to stretch the muscles that Pete Jones pushed twice this week and think about the book cover that a former student drew for me. And the poem that some girl I don't even know wrote for me because she loves the book I wrote last year and she believes that I've inspired her to "read and do right choices"...
I'm going to think about how snuggly my boy was tonight and how well he's doing in school.
I'm going to think about how I may be getting rid of this couch sooner than I had even thought possible.
I'm going to think about the girls who hugged me and yelled at me and loved me on Sunday.
I'm going to breathe.
And I'm going to be.
And I'm going to rest.
And that's all for today.