After ten years of marriage, three kids and a failed business, they parted.
He called it. He made plans. On the night he showed up with an UHaul expecting a big tearful scene , he was met with indifference and an impatient "are you still here?" when it took him a while to move his stuff out.
Injured, he spent the rest of the night unloading his truck, his head spinning with all of the promise he future now held.
He was free, free with a capital F. There was something else with a capital F that he wanted to do, but she would have to be just the right person he told himself.
He flirted over IM with co workers, dipping his toe over and over into dangerous waters. He engaged in discussion, fantasies actually, that would never materialize. Funny how that was a metaphor for most everything in his life. He could talk the talk...but that was where it ended.
His plan was to become super successful. He would show his ex and her family, a bunch of doubters and haters, when he was sitting on his pile of cash. His life long dreams, the ones that caused him to cash in his marriage, were so close he could taste it.
Deciding his look needed a bit of a makeover, he bought himself a Kangol hat, cheap Swiss watch and a bottle of flavored vodka for his fridge. Formerly forbidden by the inlaws he lived with, he liked to sit back at night in the lawn chair, the only seating in his living room and sip the cold sour apple cocktail.
He even bought a CD holder shaped like a guitar. Granted, he used all the grocery money, but it was symbols like this that made his dream seem closer.
He would show them.