
She was arrested, again and if looks like she won’t be home for close to a year this time. I’m exhausted, scared, furious and frustrated.
—-
I left work early and met with her probation officer and found out what had happened. This is the seventh time she’s been picked up for shoplifting.
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This time, her probation was revoked because she broke almost every rule. She had a large purse, several bags and canvas bags with various items in them in her suv. This was after she told her PO that she was behaving. A surprise inspection led to the arrest.
—-
I plead her case even spending over an hour in her car going through all the bags and producing enough receipts from each to satisfy the officer which I did. I explained her health issues and PTSD she suffered the past abuse she had suffered also. I practically begged her but to no avail.
—-
I was instructed to return to the county jail to obtain the possessions that were on her person when she was arrested. I knew this would unfortunately mean 😢 I’d have to return with her mother.
—-
Later we make our way to the county jail. After repeatedly comforting her mother for the umpteenth time we arrive. She’s drinking from her thermos and I can smell the vodka on her breath (reminiscent of the DUI she had received some 6 months earlier which I had bailed her out from). I am instructed by her mom to remain in the (car) parking lot and that she’d return with the items.
—-
I wait and one hour goes by, two, three, almost four. I get out and make my way to the jail, the night air greets me with cruel November fingers.
—-
Inside, I find her mom passed out in the waiting room with the items we came for. I do my best and wake her so that we can leave.
—-
We stop and I grab a dinner (I’ll never ate) and a large coffee (for her). We finally get back home and her mom somewhat sobered up leaves.
—-
It’s 1:00 am and I stare at the items before me on the couch (which served as my bed for the past 3 1/2 years) a purse, a bag, a sweater and her laptop. I hold the sweater to my face and I can smell her and fresh warm tears stream down and all us a blur for a bit. This had become a common occurrence lately as her problems seem to have compounded.
—-
I turn on the laptop (per her instructions) as I needed to check emails because I’d have to sell items (on EBay) as I had times before to help make ends meet. Seems, Uncle Sam doesn’t grant social security to semi-permanent or any other persons who are in jail since they’re technically cared for there.
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Of course for those in a household needing that income to stay afloat and keep the lights on it poses problems. I look for the email addresses I was instructed (per the note she left me with her mom).
As I finish (it’s nearly 2 now) I know I need to sleep but I can’t.
—-
I look back at the 12 inch screen and think to myself (something that’s been nagging at me) about how much she’d never let me into this laptop pretty much ever unless she was in jail. I start going through folders and my heart stops.
—-
I get bad butterflies and my stomach touches the earth’s core… What follows is very reminiscent of what ended my first marriage. Emails reeking of unfaithfulness. Professions of love to an ex boyfriend of some 20 years ago. A person that she had frequently spoken of as friend and mentioned to me many times.
—-
The betrayal stung like 1000 needles. More warm tears and my mouth agape as I read an email from her mother that made me shake to the very core of my soul.
—-
“I’m beyond happy for you dear. I know you’ve always wanted a true love and now you have a soulmate. It’s only a matter of time until you’re out (precious jail stay). Don’t worry your man will wait. I’m just glad we’re fooling your fiancé. What a fool, he thinks you love him but you can dump him when your soulmate leaves his wife. Don’t worry I’ll pile on the tears and your fiancé will be none the wiser taking care of you and your home and your bills awaiting your arrival home.”
—-
I buckled a little but knuckled down clenching as I closed my eyes and my soul screamed into the abyss. More warm tears. This is it, this is the end, of us….
-aaa