Page 39 of Beyond our Forever

No, I can never forget, it was like a glass gradually filling drop by drop, until it finally spilled over.

Overflowing with regret and resentment.

With broken dreams.

“Read the book and magazines I lent you and you’ll see that my theories are valid. A new move in bed? A shirt he bought by himself? Come on, Thia, since when are you so stupid?”

All of this is true, but it’s not the only thing. I wish I knew all the answers and most importantly, what I should do now.

“Did I tell you I’m going to look around the college this afternoon?” I try changing the subject, since this conversation has become unnecessarily painful.

“Is Aaron taking AP classes?” She wants to know. “He’s not fifteen yet.”

“No,” I clarify. “Not for Aaron. I’m going to sign up to take classes. I want to start this summer, the sooner the better.”

Her laugh is so deafening that I have to move the handset away from my ear to avoid permanent damage.

“You’re too old for that! We might be in the tornado alley, Dorothy, but none have passed to take you to the land of Oz,” she snorts. “But if your plan is to widen your hunting ground, then tell me where I can sign up too.”

Now it’s my turn to snort. It was a nasty comment, there was no need for her to go that far. This is my time, my life, so she can keep her opinions to herself.

For once I’m going to do something just because I feel like it, no matter what anybody else thinks.

No more regrets.

It’s about time I spent my time more productively.

Feeling more motivated than ever, I don’t waste another minute. Before picking up the kids at school, I show up at the admissions office at the closest-to-home college. I’m not interested in studying a professional career as such, but taking a variety of classes will serve my purpose.

Actually being there, prepared to make a fresh start feels scary and overwhelming, but if a man can walk on the moon, then surely taking these first steps isn’t impossible.

When I look at my reflection in the glass door before opening it, I don’t look so bad. Today I made an effort with my appearance, deciding every little change marks a positive step. I even put on some skinny pants I hadn’t taken out of the drawer in years.

I give myself one last glance as I pull on the door handle.

Here we go.

The admissions office is full of people of all ages, from older ladies looking for sewing classes, to kids just out of high school wanting to continue their studies.

I can do it, I can do this. Of course I can. I keep telling myself over and over again.

I’m here, so I’m not going to give up before I’ve even started.

How else are fears overcome if not by facing them?

And if I fall off the horse, then I just have to get back on. There is no place for the faint hearted, life is for the brave. I got tired of just existing. Now it’s time to live life to the full.

“Would you like to speak to one of our counselors?” the sympathetic lady at the counter suggests when she sees my hesitation, and I gratefully accept her offer.

Half an hour later, I’m sitting at a desk, talking to a man with glasses, a little younger than me, who takes notes while asking me a lot of questions about what I want to get out of studying.

“How about a creative writing workshop?” he eventually suggests.

“I don’t know.” His suggestion takes me by surprise. “I’ve never seen myself as a writer or anything like that.”

He chuckles at my reaction.

“The workshop is about more than that,” he explains. “Most people who take it are like you, trying to work out how to express themselves through words. You’ve got nothing to lose by trying it, you can always drop it if you find it’s not for you.”

---