During the winter of 2006, I learned that love can turn as ugly as it once was beautiful. And who better to teach me this lesson than my ex-boyfriend/child’s father whose love for me had turned so rancid, he uttered the “f” word: family court.
Ok, ok – technically that’s two words, however, the emotional effect is similar to the more popular four-letter word.
I wish I could say that he had a valid reason to commit such a serious act. Alas, this was nothing more than a grown man throwing a tantrum. He was a broken, silly-bitch of a person and because I was moving on just fine, he needed to upset my new harmonized universe the only way an insecure, wayward person could: by trying to take my son.
I lack the appropriate words to describe the fear and anxiety I felt when I was served with those court documents. My heart skipped several beats and I was positive I was going to pass out. Fear and anxiety gave way to an anger so intense I could’ve levitated. I probably did! My ex and I didn’t like each other much, but I really didn’t think he’d go the bitch route. I was genuinely shocked and hurt.
In retrospect, I really shouldn’t have been surprised. I should’ve realized when I broke up with him that maturity would take time. That like a bad case of herpes, this man would flare up at inopportune times. Because of our son, he will always be a part of my life.
In any event, I found myself standing in my living room reading his petition. With my “mama bear” instincts activated, I thought to myself, this is insane! This is unreal! This…is war!
So much for dating.