The Verdict

The ride home was a long one.  I knew I had started once again on my journey of defeat.  Every single detail of the court room, the faces and the testimonies, were all on a reel that just kept playing over and over in my head.  It was like a bad movie, a really bad movie, and I couldn't help but be filled with regret.  Regret of what I should have said, but didn't. Regret of what was said that shouldn't have been. Mainly, regret about showing up in general.  I was in the throws of another "I told you so" moment.  I knew that was going to happen.  It always did, no matter how hard I tried at anything, it never seemed to work out.  Fighting was pointless.  Running was better, and I knew at this momemt, I should have just ran.

We made it back to my apartment and I sat on my bed in tears.  Christopher's job was simply to listen.  He knew that anything positive he offered was going to be shot down before it ever fully left his mouth.  At that time in my life, and in fact, for many years later, I was an all or nothing kind of girl, mostly nothing.  I did not believe in the positive. My life just wouldn't allow me to trust in anything good.  That is why these moments of defeat were so hard.  It costs me a lot to fight and to go after something better. Then when I didn't receive it, it was a much harder fall.  My thinking was that if I didn't go after anything, then I could not be dissapointed  when I didn't receive it.  This was a much safer plan, and on that day, I knew I should have followed it.

There I sat, a balled up mess next to a man who was comforting me the best he could.  At the very least that day, I felt embarrassed, unworthy, and flat out stupid.  What were people going to think about me?  Were they going to believe my ex and think I was lying about all of those years?  I really felt like a fool.  On the same hand, I was fully aware I was sitting next to a man who was not leaving, a man who was loving me despite all of this.  Loving me, despite what I knew to be true about myself.  I wanted so badly to embrace that truth but I knew the risk was too high and the fall would be too hard.  Instead, I continued to ball up and cry....until the phone rang.

"Hello". 
"Hi Jamie?"   
"Yes"?
"This is "your lawyer", I wanted to tell you that shortly after you left the jury returned and they returned with a verdict of guilty. GUILTY!"
Blah blah blah...no idea how this conversation continued.

Are you kidding me??? They found him guilty?!  I could not believe it.  That balled up mess of a girl was now frantically running around the room, not having any idea how to react.  I wanted to scream, in fact, I think I did.  I was ecstatic!  The first thing I chose to do was completely out of character for me.  I picked up the phone and I called Christopher's mother.  I shared the news and then thanked her for raising such an amazing man.  I may have won my case, but deep down I knew he was the reason and I needed to thank somebody for that!

Turns out my day in court, my day of fighting, was worth it.  My ex was sentenced to several years in prison, effective immediately.  He was taken away that day. While the doors of his cell closed, I was hoping mine would now open. 

   

The Stand

This was it, by far one of the most intimidating moments of my life.  The scene is one I will always remember.  It was a room filled with a crowd of people, mostly strangers for whom this was just a day that got them out of work.  Another part of the room was all business.  Lawyers I knew, but not well enough to trust my future with, a fully wardrobed judge and an officer. For them, this was just another ordinary day. It was their job to be there. The part of the room that most gripped my heart was the one that was filled with faces I recognized, but also faces I did not want to see.  The face of my ex, the faces of his family, which by the way, all had eyes that could have burned holes right through my skin.  Along with them, there was also the face of his witness.  The very witness who should have stepped in that night, but didn't.  The witness who did not stand up for me then, and was about to stand against me now.  It was those faces that intimidated me the most.  

My mind was swirling with doubt and fear.  Was this my life?  Was this really happening?  Can't this all just go away?  Round and round these thoughts circled leaving me with the feeling of wanting to just get up and run away.  After all, running seemed to be a common desire of mine.  I guess it was the only familiar thing I had to stop any pain in my life.  I just wanted it to end.  I was beginning to doubt myself and it would be so much easier if I just gave up. However, my time was out. There would be no running, there would be no giving up. Court was now in session.

I took the stand first.  My knees were buckling, and I was sure I was visibly shaking.  I kept drinking my cup of water placed before me, not because I was thristy but because it gave me something to focus on.  My state prosecutor began his line of questioning, allowing me to share the events that took place.  I hated retelling the story.  I hated it for me and I hated it for my ex.  This should never have happened.  This was not what I planned for my life or for the life of my daughter.  My emotions were becoming overwhelming and I was beginning to unravel, until one specific moment.  A moment when I glanced out into the crowd and laid my eyes on Christopher.  He gave me a look that spoke life into me.  With his eyes alone, he told me that I was not alone, that he was there fighting for me, and regardless of how this all turned out everything was going to be okay.  His eyes went back and forth between mine and the man's I was fighting against.  His eyes showed zero fear, and that is exactly what I needed....fearlessness.  I was scared, overwhelmed, and emotionally bankrupt, but in those eyes I could press on.  So, that's exactly what I did. I told my story and recalled every detail of that night.  When the time came I managed to lift my shaky finger and point at the accused man that was my husband, and did so all the while looking him square in the eyes.  My finger may have shook but my eyes were strong.  When it came time for his attorney's questions, I felt confident.  His questions were almost silly.  I could tell he was grasping at straws, as there was no lying about the evidence and all of the reports.  He had nothing to work with. Christopher's eyes were right.

As surely as I gained my confidence, it dwindled away as soon as my ex took the stand.  My confidence turned into rage, then into sadness, and back into rage. There he sat, giving his side of the story, under oath, and it was filled with lies.  Not one part of it was familiar.  I was beside myself and wanting to stand up and scream.  He was lying about me, he was discrediting me, and he was devalueing me.  I felt like a victim all over again.  My lawyer's questioning was good, but it was not great.  I felt as if I could have done a better job myself, for I knew specific questions to which he could not answer.  It literally took everything in me not to stand up and say the things that needed to be said.

Next, his witness took the stand. As soon as the questioning began, it was obvious that it was going nowhere fast.  Between the night and day stories from him and I, the witness could not choose either side.  Several of their answers were coming out vague and confusing. They ended up stepping down, claiming that they really did not remember anything about that night. I was glad he lost his witness, but also so aggravated that he could basically un-do my testimony and lie before the court. At this point I was done.  I had said all I was allowed to say and so had he.

We stepped out of the court room and I knew court did not end well for me.  It ended on a lie, it ended with his side.  It ended with gloating from his family, as well as name calling and lots of yelling.  I was being accused of being a liar and I was devestated.  I wanted a chance to defend myself.  I knew there was no way I was going to win.  Truth was not going to prevail and there was nothing more I could do.  There was no need for me to stay around and wait for the verdict.  The last thing I wanted was to have people yelling at me and cheering as my life unraveled, and for that reason I simply went home....defeated.