So here we are, I have no money…Just what my mother has in her bank account because she has come to my bedside to pull me out of bed and out of depression. She brought me to NYC to remove me from the situation. I saw friends that I hadn’t seen in years. But I didn’t leave the house. I counted the minutes the seconds, that I would text Trip so he would give me permission to call my kids. It was only a week and I felt no different, I had no energy and they had to force me to eat. So back home I came.
We spent the afternoons downtown, eating yogurt at the same cafe, stopping by the attorney’s office to go over the facts. We were the only one’s at court that day when the judge practically laughed at HIS attorney. She had no clue what she was getting herself into. The abundance of things that had been withheld from her were numerous. She had no idea what was going on. The judge said he would look into things and that was that. My lawyer was feeling positive, I felt like puking.
We met up with my son’s BSC at Starbucks and then Angel, Mom and I went to Wild Wings. As I pushed my food around my place the text came in. It was over. I could get the kids. I knocked my soda into my mothers lap. I ran out the door to call and make sure it was true. I couldn’t believe it. After the brokenhearted son I heard on the phone last night (while he hid in the closet so he could take it off speaker phone and no one could hear our conversation) begged me to take him home, At that point I had no words for him. Now I could come and get him.
But there were choices, when, which car, do I call the police, do I go alone or do I take my mother.?
It didn’t matter, nothing else mattered. 4 hours later and they were in my arms, Trip watched through a window as his other half gave me everything (well my mom because I was busy holding the kids).
That case was ended last year, I have full custody and he has visitation rights. Every other weekend nd alternating holidays. I have to drive halfway to meet them unless a holiday falls on a sunday and then he can drive them to me. After everything I still have to share my kids. Who half the time don’t want to go. He took them, a snatch and grab, when I was in the hospital, and I have to let him have them….Oh did I mention 4 non consecutive weeks during the summer…But this wasn’t the end of the broken hearts. This wasn’t the end of what story just the middle. There will be one more part. And I will write it today. I promise
*Note* This story is not over, there is just one more part to writ about, and this part is the current part. It is day by day. It is the right now, it is the heartbroken me that sits here before you right now and tyes at these key and wants nothing mre than to paste a smile on her face and say it is all going to be ok. So the last part of the story I shall write….Will follow shortly Heartbroken