The encounter

She is ready… a short story

She is ready. All these years waiting and finally it is here. Everything has been carefully chosen: from the shoes to the jewelry, it is all worn with purpose. A long awaited moment she was both excited and nervous. Today’s date marked the anniversary of the event that caused the ridge between them. It deserved preparation.

In a way however, the event did not deserve that much attention. Would it not be, after all, playing into their emotional blackmail? She quickly put those thoughts away. Nothing that could distract her needed to be in her mind. There was only one goal: to have this conversation and continue on whatever the result.

Her shoes were new almost metaphorical because either way she would walk away a new person. Thus, new shoes symbolized a new journey. This part of the journey, the conversation, was the necessary comings and goings characteristic of daily life, at least that is how she wanted to see it. Her delicate socks matched her beautiful hand gloves but even this was deliberate. The nails could not handle another round of nail bitting she had become used to. The rings were passed on to her by her mother. Her mother received her from her mother as well. They had been in the family for generations going back to the Renaissance, she heard. She often would question this in her mind but not wanting to upset her mother, she did not ask. Sometimes it is easier and less dangerous to entertain or at least act like one is entertaining the lies. Because it was better to be safe than sorry, she would not take off the gloves so she would not need to take off the rings.

Today was the day. The conversation promised to be hard and difficult but she decided it was time. Would they recognize what they had done? Would they take responsibility? All these questions floated in her mind overwhelming her but each time a rush of them flooded her mind, she would sit and breathe for a few minutes. She wondered why people often underestimate how calming breathing is? It had been so helpful that when her therapist told her to try it, her life changed.

Her therapist had encouraged her to reach out to them to meet. And here we are, she thought, waiting for them to pick me up. They were running late. Opting to think the best she imagined they had ran out of gas and stopped to get some gas before driving into town. But she also thought the worse: they changed their minds and did not want to tell her.

Nevertheless, she decided to show up and be there. She was so young and yet so mature. Asking for this meeting had been a painful decision making process with a long pros and cons list. But now she was ready to be free. The waiting and the actual encounter were simply the only door left to open and as soon as they arrive, she’d know which kind of freedom hers will be.