A familiar look, hand gesture, the same full head of gray hair ~ even the same style of shirt he wore. Seeing a man of the same age from the back of his head ~ in the distance ~ and doing a double take to see if it is really him. Could it really be him?
Creeping by slowly, studying every mannerism, every voice inflection as I inspect the man in the distance ~ now getting closer ~ as I approach from the side.
Waving his hands, he rants and raves at the other guy in the parking lot of my local donut shop.
Yes, it could be him, I think. That is how he used to wave his hands to make a point ~ to be dramatic ~ to be important ~ to seem smarter than other people.
But this guy seems drunk or on drugs, and I am hoping my ex is still clean and sober after being released from jail nearly four months ago.
Why would my ex being sitting on the parking chock in the parking space ~ waving his hands dramatically ~ not really making any sense to me ~ as I approach?
I squint through my eight-year-old prescription on my beat-up eyeglasses and keep thinking it could really be him. It has finally happened, I think. I will finally come fact-to-face with my abuser after years, or will I simply bolt away to my destination of a greasy meal at Denny's?
I would like to come face-to-face with my abuser and ask him point-blank for the $5000 he extorted from me back in 2003. I could really use that money now ~ now that I have been laid off from my job.
But I will never see that money for as long as I live, and that money is living proof that I survived four years of abuse. That money is a symbol of my strength to survive. So, no, I do not really need that money that bad if it meant coming face-to-face with the man who abused me for four years.
I creep slowly past, listening to every deranged word from the gray-haired man's mouth and finally realize it is not him like I thought it could be.
Just another drunk to dodge on my way to Denny's.
