I was working on my thesis when the
results started coming in. Within five minutes of intently watching cable news,
everything else I was doing started seeming small and irrelevant. Sure, the waning
influence of postmodernism may have been more challenging than glad handing on
a daily basis, but Rob was clearly on his way to being elected to the United
States Senate. Shots of his campaign headquarters periodically flashed across
the screen, where many young, bright eyed individuals partied and waited
patiently to bask in the glow of Rob’s sunshine. After half an hour, I logged
off my laptop, knowing I would be unable to work for the rest of the evening.
Still, I couldn’t abide sitting there
in front of the idiot box, either. I had been alone since the divorce, after
all. I hadn’t even dated. Now I just wasn’t capable of bringing myself to
witness Rob’s nightlong moment of glory from the confines of my dark condo. Rob
had some good reasons for leaving me, to be sure, but there were lots of not so
good reasons, too – up to and including his ambition and his current wife,
Kelly. In truth, I didn’t want to put myself through what I essentially saw as
an entire awards ceremony Rob had garnered by virtue of leaving me. Yet I
couldn’t turn the television off entirely, either. Who knows why (and the truth
is that I really don’t want to know why), but I decided to keep it on with the
sound off.
It was from within this limbo state
that I finally decided to take a bath. I couldn’t unload on Erica, after all.
She was with her father at the moment, along with Kelly and her own two
beautiful children that she had with Rob (actually, Kelly’s kids weren’t
exactly beautiful…I just like to throw the word in there for effect). Surely
Erica wouldn’t want to have an important evening spoiled by my telling her how
down and out and second best and irrelevant her mother felt. I wondered, however, if Erica might feel
second best herself as the results poured in. No doubt she did – at least a
little.
As the water ran in the tub I began to
ask myself if I could endure watching the victory speech. The truth was, I
couldn’t. There Rob would be, standing with perfect Kelly and their children,
adored, cheered and celebrated, while Erica would be somewhere slightly back
and to the left. The thought sickened me to my core. Yet I also knew Erica
would want me watching her. Sliding inside the tub, I told myself it wasn’t
easy being a mother. I wished there was someone else I could share that nugget
with, but there wasn’t. Actually, there was, but I didn’t want my friends
thinking I was spending the evening choking on sour grapes.
Ultimately, however, I decided to go
to bed. I had my own psyche to worry about. Growing up, my mother had told me
to always ask myself what Jesus would do. Needless to say, I couldn’t see Jesus
condemning me for calling it an early night. I could watch Erica up there on a
replay, after all, after the pain and bitterness had somewhat subsided. And so
I slipped under the sheets at around ten, convinced I had done the right thing.
At around three in the morning, I was
awoken by Sandy, who seemed to be having some kind of Golden Retriever
nightmare at the foot of the bed. She settled down after a few, but by then I
had suddenly found myself wanting, no, NEEDING, to know about Rob’s victory.
Call me a masochist, but my curiosity demanded I see a headline, a picture,
something. Giving into temptation, I took hold of my iPhone from the
nightstand.
Rob had lost by over ten thousand
votes to Ellen Barbosa. The western part of the state, which wasn’t counted
until last, had rallied behind her. It was, to be sure, an upset. Needless to
say, that was one of the happiest moments of my life, one I remain guilty for
cherishing, why, I’m still not sure. Perhaps it’s because Kelly’s kids looked
so despondent up there on stage during Rob’s concession speech. You can tell
the little squirts had expected so much.
That was Rob for you.
