Saturday...

I walk through the doors of Inman Perk at 7:15am. My head is still not grounded but drowning somewhere in outer space. When I order my soy latte the guy behind the counter says,
“So what is it that you do here every morning?”
I’m taken aback by this question. No one has ever asked me that before.
“Uh, I write.” I reply and take the change he’s handing me.
“Oh.” he nods.
I quickly smile, lower my eyes, and walk over to the table I sit at every morning and set up my computer. I’m terrified of anymore questions. I don’t want to explain what it is I’m writing about and why.
My car was returned to me yesterday afternoon. For the first time in five weeks I was able to say “I’m SO HAPPY!” It’s so pretty and it works! Kat drove me to pick it up. I brought along my Saving Abel CD I bought the day after Rob died to finally listen to it in the car. (Mom’s car doesn’t have a CD player) I remember Nathan’s words the day I bought the CD, telling me to “listen to it loud” when I told him I bought it. I did just that and enjoyed every minute. It kills me though that the memories I have of the CD are not from times I spent with Rob but are of the beginning of time without him.
It’s pouring rain as I sit in traffic waiting to get home. I’m terrified to actually drive because it’s been so long since I’ve had the car and I don’t want anything else to happen to it. I remember the last time it was in an accident. I was without it for four weeks. The day after I got it back a rock fell out of the sky and cracked the windshield.
Traffic crawls giving me time to think about the last time I was sitting in my driver’s seat.
I turn left onto Ponce de Leon from N. Highland and head towards Whole Foods to pick up some turkey for dinner. Rob just sent me a text message saying he’s crossed over the GA/SC border. Something in my head tells me to go home. I ignore this feeling, thinking that I’m just five minutes away from the store. I want to get this damn turkey. Still this feeling is insistent on telling me to turn down the next street and go home. Again, I am insistent on going to where I need to go.
A flash of blue races out in front of me, my head slams into the steering wheel as I simultaneously hear a loud crash and realize my car has plowed into another one. When I open my eyes, I can’t see. Everything is blurry. My glasses are in my lap. I reach down, pick them up and put them on my face. Get out. I’m not dead. I’m ok. Get out of the car, walk, speak, do something. I open the car door and step out. I survey the damage of my car and look over at the one who caused it. It’s totaled. There’s no fixing that. I want to throw up. My head hurts. I stumble over to the other car, trying to walk in a straight line. The driver is a young woman about my age and she’s not dead either. Ok. This is certainly inconvenient but can be fixed. She’s on the phone calling the police, her car is leaking all sorts of nastiness. When we each know the other one is ok, I call Rob.
“Hey honey.” my hands won’t stop shaking. “I’ve been in an accident.”
“What?! Are you ok?”
“Yeah, just really shaken up.”
“What happened?” he asks.
I briefly tell him and then say I have to let him go when I see the woman get out of her car, currently on the phone with the tow company now.
“I’ll call you back.” I tell Rob.
“Ok. You still want me to come down?”
“Of course! I need you.”
Everything got cleaned up and towed away. I walked home still trying not to throw up, still trying to figure out what I was going to do. I managed to call my insurance company, make dinner and be in one piece by the time Rob came over.
After we ate he took me to the tow place. I left my paycheck in my car. Each finger of my left hand was resting between each of his. We said nothing as he drove. I pressed the back of his hand to my stomach and thanked him for being here.
“Of course!” he replied.
“I wouldn’t want to be doing this with out you.” I smiled at him.
“I wouldn’t want you to!”
A horn beeps behind me to tell me to go. The light is green. I eventually make it home. I want to keep driving though. Stay in the car and drive until there’s no road left.
I stare at the clock. It’s 7:45am now. I pull up my email Inbox and open one sweet email after another, chewing on my face to keep from crying, but the tears silently spill down my face. The kind words people have offered are the only things that get me through each day. Simple things that are said like “I’m thinking about you.” fill me up with so much love I can hardly stand it.
This is supposed to get easier with time right? That’s what everyone says. How much time? When do I feel whole again? Why do people look at me like I’m crazy when I tell them I don’t know how I feel? Why is it expected that I return to life as it used to be when it’ll never be as it used to be?
I glance at the clock. It’s now 9:20am. I feel I haven’t done anything. There’s still so much left write. I need to get to work though. I pack everything up and head out. I can’t stop crying. I cry the whole way to the salon. I promise I’m trying to be normal. I’m trying to be excited to work. I remind myself that I love my job.
My first client is early and I feel caught off guard. I set up my station and walk to the break room where I silently hug Monique and cry into her hair. I can’t talk, can’t breathe. She offers to mark off my day. I shake my head.
“I have to be here. I really do want to see everyone, I’m just so messed up. I don’t know why it’s like this all the sudden.”
“I don’t know what to say.”
Me either and I don’t expect her to say anything.
“I know it’s hard to imagine but it does get better.” she tells me.
“I believe you, I just don’t see it yet.” I wipe my face.
She goes out to get her client and I follow her to get mine. It takes me a couple of hours to get ‘normal’ and talk to people like everything is all shiny and wonderful. I manage to tell a few of them what happened. I find that today, once I get started talking about it I’m divulging all sorts of information and being ok with it. When I’m holding a section of hair and the tears come I stop cutting, get a hold of myself and continue again. No one tells me to stop crying today. No one says anything ridiculous and I feel such amazing relief from sharing what’s been in my head.
When my work day ends I go buy another pair of running shoes. I took the long way to Lenox and the long way home, stopping by San Francisco coffee. I try hard to write. The music is awful, I can’t concentrate and I feel on edge without having Rob with me. He hasn’t been with me for five weeks now and I’m still not used to it. I decide the fastest way out of this uncomfortable feeling tonight will be to sleep.