She was granted the restraining order today. Three months, one thousand feet.
“I’m not happy with this,” she tells me.
Who the f— cares ?!
You asked for it, didn’t you?
Did it never occur to you that it would work?
Were you hoping against hope that everything would magically turn out to be ok?
You got what you wanted..and then some.
Look. I know what you’re going through isn’t easy and I know he isn’t perfect.
But is that any reason to tear a marriage apart?
And don’t tell me is won’t affect us, that it doesn’t ‘apply’.
You’re deceiving yourself.
Don’t you know you’re forcing us to choose?
That home is no longer a home because he isn’t allowed in it?
We are no longer a family.
Instead, we’re broken glass.
Mismatched puzzle pieces.
A whole world of things that just can’t seem to fit anymore.
Why don’t you leave, Mom?
You were the one who always wanted to get out.
You never liked it here; the people, the pace.
No could hear you, no one would listen.
So, why don’t you go?
Why can’t you be the one to find the answers somewhere else?
Take a break.
A long one.
And don’t worry about us not being able to take care of ourselves while you’re gone. We’ve done it so many times before.
We don’t fight or scream or call the cops.
We don’t fixate on the past;
And we don’t ask some county court judge to pass a sentence saying that we can no
longer be in the same room together.
Do you want to know why, Mom? Do you?
I’ll tell you.
It’s because we’re a family…without you.
We don’t need you to be happy or secure.
We don’t need you.
And you know what the funniest part about this is?
You haven’t driven him away.
The only one you are really driving away is yourself.
And do you want to know how far?
One thousand feet.
Do you want to know for how long?
Not three months.
Never three months.