I had this little incident last week. It definitely knocked me off balance but I think I did a good job of maintaining. I held it together, likely because Mike was out of town and I had the two youngest at home with me. I had to keep it together.
I thought for sure when Mike came home I would fall apart. I would finally be able to release. But it didn't happen like that. I was pretty matter-of-fact about the whole thing. Everyone was wondering what his reaction would be and I really couldn't predict. Turns out he was "worried". His word, not mine.
Over the past week, the memory and fear of the whole incident has faded, just like the bruises on my arm. They're barely even noticeable at this point. And I like it like that. It seems so distant, so unreal.
But then I got this letter yesterday. From the District Attorney. Demanding me to appear (and yes, it says demanding) in court. I've been subpoenaed. I am a witness. I need to testify. It came with this one-page pamphlet explaining the process - the subpoena and what it means, the preliminary examination, the trial.
I read it. I re-read it. My heart started thumping. My palms were sweating. Tears tried to sprout from my eyes but I held them back. Can't I just pretend like this never happened? Can't I just crawl back under my rock? I feel like I'm gonna puke.