(Backup) How I Spent the 4th of July pt 2

Remember last year when Jacob suddenly moved out on the 4th while I was at a church bbq? And I’ve barely blogged since because I don’t even know how to deal? 

Well, I’m back. I had to promise to come back so I could maintain sole physical custody but no one thought he would take the deal. But so far he’s taken the deal and I’m back. In Brooklyn. 

And I went to my church bbq yesterday. Partly because Rawle was making Guyana jerk chicken (people, it is SO good) and partly to be intentional about healing. Me and the girls called it ‘Abandon-versary’. They’re with my mom in Vancouver so she had to spend the day listening to the story over and over. Sorry, Mom. 

Anyway, I went. And almost the exact same food was served with almost the exact same people. It felt like home. My people, my Guyana chicken (I ate probably six pieces) and my baggage. I reminded all my friends that I was observing Abandon-versary and we had a great talk. Mostly it was angry words of hate and plans to watch him burn alive, which is exactly what constitutes a great talk. A friend came up and admitted that she’d asked her husband to leave on Sunday. It was the first time in over a year that I’ve felt like there was space in my soul to give to someone else, the kind of space where I could listen and empathize and offer actually helpful things. We both needed that conversation. I stayed until Lucy fell apart, just like last year, and I left. 

And I had the strangest longing to go HOME. My home, with my little people and my dirty laundry and plenty of soft blankets. 

Two days ago, Jacob said he was moving and I could take over the apartment. MY apartment that my dad and I signed on together and has just the right amount of deli, pizza, Muslim holidays and the F train. So in a few days—July 10– I will be back in MY apartment where a bunch of imposters have been unrightfully staying. 

Also I’m moving in with two suitcases and half a bag of pretzels because everything else is in a storage unit in Utah. 

I’m not in great shape, truthfully. The battle wounds are still raw and the trauma is affecting most parts of my life. I medicate with Frosted Mini Wheats. I don’t apologize for all the things I’m not getting done.




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