It’s about two weeks now until the next legal thing. I’ll not nervous, yet. The date sits in the back of my mind, not looming over us like previous meeting dates did. It’ll happen when it happens, eventually.
I feel like I should be nervous, however, since by that time it will be nearly 11 months from the ignition of this entire dumpster fire. Something’s gotta happen, it’s not just going to fizzle out. The uncertainty about everything is what kills me the most. We can hope there’s a chance of probation – his lawyer got someone with similar and worse charges off with only probation – which means the daily life stuff doesn’t change.
If there’s time to be served, though, what happens then? I don’t make enough keep the house on my own, and apartments would be the same monthly cost as the mortgage. There would be packing up the house alone. Moving alone. The only place I’d be able to go would be to my mother’s, and that’s a 24 hour drive, alone.
On top of that, even the best case scenario is difficult. When he first got out, I told everyone – including him – there was no “us”. It wasn’t something I was giving any thought to. I wasn’t entertaining the idea of fixing our marriage, when my primary concern was getting my best friend the help he needed. Now that things are more stable for him, we’ve been slowly – very slowly – working on repairing things between us. The best case scenario is going to force us to make some solid decisions about where we stand together.
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