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Some girls can cry for hours and never mess up their makeup, never get frizzy hair, never get swollen eyes.
That’s not me.
When I cry, I cry ugly, so I pull into a rest area, turn off the car, and have my cry. I let out everything I’m feeling, everything I’m going through. I let out everything and I just cry and cry and cry.
I’m not sure how long I’m supposed to cry for. I feel like I shouldn’t cry for a long time. Maybe twenty or thirty minutes is enough. That’s long enough to get the tears out, but not so long that my crying becomes ridiculous.
After all, it’s their loss, right?
It’s easy to say, but harder to live with. It’s difficult to be able to say, “Yep. I fucked up. I should have severed ties with these people a long time ago.” Part of me wonders why I didn’t. I know why, though. When I really, actually think about it, I know why. They’re my family and I can’t stand the idea of hurting them. Then again, I don’t think this really hurts them.
In order to be hurt by someone, you have to care.
They don’t.
They never have.
They care about themselves, and maybe they even care about one another, but they certainly don’t care about Fat Melody. They certainly don’t care about the elephant in the room.
That happens to be me.
I made my choice, though. When I return to Morris, I won’t have to deal with them again. My family lives far enough away that they would never stop by for a social visit. They’d plan anytime they wanted to see me. After today, I’m guessing that will be exactly zero times. Zero visits. Good riddance.
Finally, I dry my tears, turn on my music, and set the GPS. It’s time to get back home. It’s a three hour drive from Centerville to Morris, and I only drove for twenty minutes before pulling over and giving in to my tears.
It’s already getting dark, and if I’m not mistaken, there’s a storm brewing. The last thing I want is to get caught in a storm on the mountain drive back, so it’s time to leave. I take off, singing along with my favorite bands. The Violet Burning and Brave Saint Saturn take my mind off the way my heart feels like it’s drowning. I can’t even really explain why this all hurts so much. I don’t want to.
I just want to be done with it.
When I get back to Morris, I can throw myself into work. I have a presentation on Monday morning to discuss ways we can improve the call center I work at. I’ve come up with several strategies to reduce call wait time and improve the productivity of our agents. While everyone works really hard at my office, I firmly believe in worker smarter: not harder. With a few minor changes, everyone can relax a little bit while experiencing improved performance.
At least, that’s the goal.
I’m lucky to have a job I enjoy and good colleagues at my office. When I first joined McQuaid Technologies, I wasn’t sure what to expect. You never know what that first job out of college is going to be like. Are you going to hate it or love it? Will your boss be garbage or incredible? Will you be terrible or will you flourish?
Luckily, it was all positive for me.
Within a year, I’d been promoted to team leader and two years after that became a division manager. Now I’m in charge of the entire call center and while my life is insanely busy, it’s a good kind of busy. I realize now that instead of worrying about my family and their treatment of me, I’m going to have a lot more time to focus on improving the office where I work.
Snow starts falling suddenly, and I realize that I’m definitely going to be dealing with a storm on the trip. Luckily, I’m more than halfway home now. I’ve just passed the last exit for awhile. Although I’ll be driving in and out of the mountains the rest of the way home, I’ve made this trip so many times I feel comfortable continuing on.
There will be another small town half an hour or so up the road. If the storm worsens, I can stop there. It won’t be a problem.
I slow down and notice my GPS losing signal. That’s not uncommon. I keep a couple of maps in the glove compartment for instances like this. The windy mountain road I’m on right now tends to weave in and out of really rocky areas and that can affect the signal. It’s not a big deal. I just turn my headlights on, decrease my speed, and keep going.
Everything is going to be fine.
My phone has seven missed calls from my mother. Now that I’m not getting cell service, maybe the calls will stop. Maybe they’ll start going right to voicemail and she’ll realize I don’t want to talk to her. Part of me is surprised she cares enough to call, but then, she always was a little bit dramatic.
Chances are I’m going to delete her voicemails without listening to them.
I’m not a glutton for punishment any longer.
Nope.
No more.
My days of dealing with her drama are over. Maybe there will come a time when we’re able to work through our differences. Maybe in a few years, we’ll get together and talk and things will be different. We’ll have both changed and grown and things won’t seem so bad, but I don’t think so.
