Time

I had two choices: Cry a bit longer and risk the whites of my eyes and puffiness around not having enough time to go back to normal, or push the feelings aside and try to focus on something else. The former would have made sense. I had about 20 minutes until my clients would arrive - 5 more minutes to cry, 5 minutes to fix my makeup and 10 minutes to put the mask back on, with its painted smile across it.

I had reviewed the listings. I had set an alarm for the last fifteen minutes of my hour and a half trip to pull myself together to learn it. I had told myself I can cry for the rest of the trip , outside those 15 minutes. This had become my normal and was sort of how my routine worked.

I didn't like being a Real Estate agent but I wouldn't know that at the time. I knew I felt like I was decent at it and that I didn't want to give up, but it felt difficult. Everything felt difficult though.

Part of me didn't even want to find, "the one," that sunny day because I didn't think I'd have the energy to actually go forward with it for them. I didn't care about the commission - I wanted to curl up in a ball and wait for a better day.

Some days were better. Some days he was nice and we'd laugh together. I knew how to be, "good," at this point and how not to make things worse for me but it was exhausting and, sometimes, I would slip and be myself.

That morning, I had felt a bit of hope. I had spoken with his sister. He didn't speak to her, but I thought we had come up with a great idea. I had grabbed a coffee with him and had shared the idea in the car.

I knew better than to share things that I was excited about, but this felt foolproof. He had to think this was a good idea.

I felt so alone and surely he saw that. He saw the days I couldn't get out of bed. He saw how I didn't look or feel anything like myself - the girl before him. But, then again, he'd tell me, that was the old, irresponsible me. This was the new, adult me. He'd tell me that he knew me better than myself. It came to a point that he probably did. This person was foreign to me. I definitely didn't know her.

He promised he'd change though. He promised he wouldn't put his hands on me again after the last time. That wasn't the first time but, this time would be different. He promised he wouldn't be so controlling. That also wasn't the first time but, he was no longer getting mad at me for smiling at my phone or laughing when talking to my brothers so maybe he had changed. He had to be happy for me.

I was smiling again and excited to go to work that day. That's usually how it started when I'd have a glimmer of hope, but this time would be different...right?

- I hear the blaring sound of the worst alarm available on Iphone that I keep thinking, I have to change. It's time to fix my makeup. Eyedrops first. Those were my best friend. They worked like a charm. Qtips and wipes were already in the center console for these situations.

- "Me and your sister are going to cook together once a week!" I had practically squealed to him that morning. Great, the plan was to NOT sound too excited.

Great start.

I tried to study his face. I'd do that a lot to try and predict what I'd need to say next or if he was misunderstanding me, to try to get him to understand. His face was pretty stoic. He wasn't happy for me though.

"We're going to take turns with recipes and getting the groceries." That was fair, right? I would only buy groceries every two weeks for one meal for 3 people, with my own money - though it never really felt like my money.

His expression was the same. It was almost like he was thinking. I was pretty good at reading his reactions but this time I think I had been so excited to have a friend again and to get away that my heart wanted to believe that he was just taking a second since he didn't have a relationship with his sister.

That's when I got to hear it - how it was selfish of me because I could be cooking for him that day and what was he supposed to eat that day, while I'm wasting money on groceries that should be for, us?

What us? He had caused a scene in the grocery store, pulling me away from organic eggs about a week before that, demeaning me in front of everyone, when I wanted to make a nice breakfast with the blueberry sausages we had picked up. After that mortifying scene, I had found four, new diver watches that he had bought for himself - watches worth in the nearly thousand dollars and more range in his drawer, when I was grabbing one of his undershirts to wear. There wasn't really an us.

I cried and I don't even remember what I said or if I said anything. It definitely wasn't the first time that I felt hopeless or let down, but I was running out of ideas and energy to try not to.

Well, it’s time to go get ready.

I went back in the house to change my outfit. My mind was a mess so I pulled out quite a few pieces, looking for something that I'd feel normal in. I had gained about forty pounds. For a girl who could never gain weight all my life and who had once obsessed over fitness, and her appearance, none of this felt normal. I had once been in fashion shows and traveled for events. None of my nice clothes fit me now, and it would be a big fight if I bought any clothes, with my own money, so I alternated between his mom's hand-me-downs and my seventy-year-old aunt's luckily, quite stylish, mature pieces.

On one occasion, I tried to slip out a few of his mom's pieces that just didn't feel like even whatever was left of me, and they ended up back in the house with a fight that followed.

Casually, I'd mostly where his clothes and whatever oversized items I had that still fit.

Sometimes, I would look at how I used to look and I'd cry. That was when I was confident. I couldn't be farther from that now. But, I'd make the best of what I had in front of me. It was the approach I was taking to everything at the time but, it was becoming exhausting.

I didn't have the energy to deal with anything unknown though so I'd just wait for the next good day.

I grabbed a dress from my aunt and got in my car and sat there. I did my calculations. The drive was about an hour and a half. If I left now, I’d have 1 hr and 10 minutes to cry. I’d set the alarm to review my listings for then, while driving, and have enough time to redo my makeup and let my face clear up when I got there.

- And here we are, my clients pulling up, while I pull down the mirror to look one last time. I wouldn't have been able to tell.

Smile.

Sometimes, I did enjoy forcibly having to turn my mind off for work. Never in the beginning. It felt like a treacherous feat that I would not be capable of accomplishing in the beginning. But, then, I'd just do it, and it would become the times I felt most like myself- something that barely existed.

This time, the kids were there and took my mind off of everything for a bit. Their only criteria was that the house had to have a crawl space. We had fun with it.

I zoned out a bit when they agreed that they found, the one.

Of course, today.

Nothing had been easy for me at the time, so I almost found it funny, in a cynical way.

Well, let's make the best of it.

I told them we'd go to a widely famous, Canadian coffee shop to have a picnic with the kids and go over the offer. I had a picnic blanket in my trunk. And, we did.

When we were done, I sat in my car and smiled and waived as they drove away and let out a sigh of relief. That wasn't so bad. I did it. These were the only times I felt proud of myself so I let it marinate for a second and then put my car in drive.

I was on the highway for about an hour and a half maybe. It's a bit of a blur. I was no longer crying. I felt pretty zoned out - perhaps even numb. I don't even remember if I had music on, which I'd always have on. I passed the exit to go home and continued driving. I don't exactly remember what was going on in my head - I don't think much, to be honest. All I know, is that my body did not let me go home and kept its foot on the gas. And, I just drove.

And that was when I left... for real this time.