Every little thing gonna be all right..

I sigh as I pull up outside his mothers house.

Remind myself that I'm a better person than this. I will be civil.

He comes out of the house with his usual swagger. I keep my shades on, an unconscious sign telling him, "Beware of Bitch". He hands over another installment of the money he owes my parents, (part of the deal we had made to hand over the land to him as I could not afford it) asks me to count it there on the side of the street. My hopes and dreams boiled down into this clinical exchage. It's obscene. My adrenaline level spikes, I've got the shakes.

My fingers flick as I count, I do it so quickly that my dyslexia taps me upside the head and I have to start over. I huff out a breath and begin again. Clenching the bills so my hands stop shaking. I wonder if he can see it. Will he think that I'm unstable ? Tell my parents that I need psychiatric help again ?? 

I'm laughing bitterly inside. Depressed, I am not. I am full of so much rage and resentment towards him. Not for the breakup, Christ.

No.

It was this;

" I never felt that we were in a position in this relationship where we could get married."

Causually tossed at me in the later stages of the breakup, those words are what crushed the thinnest tendril of hope that I had that "we" would make it through this. That statement made me realise that there was no "we". There was me and I had to take care of my own business.

That statement is what makes it so difficult for me to speak to him without frothing at the mouth. A piece of me plots to make him hurt as much as he has hurt me. He let me waste my life on him. Twelve goddammed years. We bought a piece of land together. Did he think we were just playing house?

As I fold the bills and toss them into my bag, he smiles at me and tells me "Have a nice day!"

I wiggle my fingers over my shoulder as I turn back to my car, and yell back in my best Valley-Girl accent, "Youuu tooo!"

I catch sight of his expression in the mirror as I drive off and start giggling.

An hour later I'm telling my parents the story and we are laughing so hard I have to run to the bathroom before I have an accident.

As I wash my hands I catch sight of my widely smiling face in the mirror.

If this were a movie the first bars of Bob Marley's "Three little birds" would start to play;

Dont worry about a thing,
cause every little thing gonna be all right.
Singin: dont worry about a thing,
cause every little thing gonna be all right!

Rise up this mornin,
Smiled with the risin sun,
Three little birds
Pitch by my doorstep
Singin sweet songs
Of melodies pure and true,
Sayin, (this is my message to you-ou-ou:)

Singin: dont worry bout a thing,
cause every little thing gonna be all right.
Singin: dont worry (dont worry) bout a thing,
cause every little thing gonna be all right!

Rise up this mornin,
Smiled with the risin sun,
Three little birds
Pitch by my doorstep
Singin sweet songs
Of melodies pure and true,
Sayin, this is my message to you-ou-ou:

Singin: dont worry about a thing, worry about a thing, oh!
Every little thing gonna be all right. dont worry!
Singin: dont worry about a thing - I wont worry!
cause every little thing gonna be all right.

Singin: dont worry about a thing,
cause every little thing gonna be all right - I wont worry!
Singin: dont worry about a thing,
cause every little thing gonna be all right.
Singin: dont worry about a thing, oh no!
cause every little thing gonna be all right!