Mirror

IT IS TIME FOR ME TO LET GO. (From an excerpt of my book. This has only been told to three people . This is the first time I have typed it up. It’s time to let go and forgive the day I was called a liar.)

October 2002

As my step-mom pulled into the front of the real estate office something came out of me - word vomit.

“Yvon- Mom?” I just turned seven and was just getting used to calling her that (my idea). I knew I wasn’t hers, they had just had my little sister and everything just seemed off.

“Yes, Eddie?” (She still wasn’t used to it).

“I need to tell you something.”

“What is it?”

I looked at her through the rear view mirror. Her dark red lipstick, coffee colored rimmed sunglasses, with her short bang curled dark brown hair shaping the outline of her face. “Well?” She hurried.

Taking a deep breath - I barfed.

It was like she did not skip a beat. She put the Jeep in park and unclicked her seat belt. “Wait in the car.” She ordered. Gracefully opened the door, slammed it, proceeded to walk to the car behind us - my dads vehicle.

Looking at the rear view mirror I could see my dads reaction and her mouth moving. My dad’s eyes suddenly found mine and locked. “Uh-oh.” I said to myself. This could be the end.

I heard my dad turn off his car and saw him exit his vehicle. I looked away from the rear view mirror and glanced at my one year sister sleeping soundly in her car seat. In that moment I would’ve given anything to be her.

They both came back and entered the Jeep. Yvonne sitting in the passenger seat and my dad sitting in the driver seat (that’s usually how things started). “Eddie. Why would lie to Yvonne about this? Why would you make up something like that?” The interrogation started and I didn’t know how to answer except with shrugged shoulders. I looked at the rear view mirror and saw my dad staring. Right into me.

“Yeah. Why would you lie? Why would your dad take you to Chuck ‘E’ Cheese on his birthday? You have to understand how that doesn’t make any sense.” I looked away to find her eyes. She was turned to me. Her sunglasses still on. “Why would you lie about something like that, Eddie?”

“I’m not lying, mom.” I quietly stated.

“Yes you are.” My dad boomed. “Eddie. You’re lying. It doesn’t make any sense that I would take you out on MY birthday to Chuck ‘E’ Cheese, and you say that you saw me kiss another woman! You’re lying. When are you gonna stop lying, son?”

I didn’t answer him. I looked back at Yvonne who was now facing forward. “If you did see dad. Eddie, if you did see dad kiss another woman do you remember her name?”

“Yes.”

“What was her name.”

“Alma?”

“Your mom?!”

“No. It wasn’t my mom.”

“I told you he was lying. He’s trying to say it was his mom.” My dad interceeded.

I heard my mom sigh. “We have to go. The agent is waiting for us. Eddie, wake your sister up and get her in her stroller, please.”

The next 45 min to an hour was a complete blur.

My sister fell asleep again in her stroller. “Eddie. Put her back in the car seat, please.” My mom said. She was still talking to the agent about the house we were just looking at.

I tried so hard to make her stay awake, but to avail. I strapped her in the car seat and put my seat belt on next to her. I suddenly saw my dad walking toward the vehicle. He climbed into the drivers seat. Slammed the door. Looked me straight dead in the eye through the rear view mirror.

Without even turning his body his hand made direct contact across my face. My whole body shuttered. I could feel my face tightening and I could feel the tears gearing up. I looked up with my left hand holding my left cheek up.

“You wanna cry? I’ll give you a reason to cry. I thought I told you to keep your mouth shut?” I looked at Ben’s eyes. They were dark. I couldn’t see a reflection. I did not know who that man was that day, but I know now that that was not my father.

July 2020

This is an excerpt from my future book. This is the first time I’ve typed it out but had been told a total of three times... enjoy.

“I reached my hand into my shorts just to play with the inside mesh of the pockets. My fingers felt something small and grainy. I sighed and closed my eyes. I walked myself to the mirror to see my reaction as I pulled out what I knew would be a turning point in my life, as well is in my recovery. I pulled out a tiny baggy with the grainy contents of my failure. I looked at it, looked myself in the mirror, and chuckled. ‘Of course this would happen to me.’ I had the baggy up to my face and glared at myself. This moment I had two choices to make.

“Eddie. No one will know. You still have the bag of syringes and you have just enough for a fat shot. No one will know. It’ll be between you and I.” As I said these words out loud to myself I immediately felt crazy, but there was familiarity in it. It also felt like an unbelievably safe decision. In my head was another conversation:

“Eddie. You know what happens if you decide to use. Do you want to explain another clean date? Not only that but you know you don’t want to use. You’re tired of poking yourself. You’re hurting me. Please, stop hurting me. We don’t deserve it.”

I licked my chapped lips. I swallowed a lot of air and let out a big sigh. (By my own strength the following decision I made would have not been possible. But internally knowing that the decision I made was already given to God, it somehow made it easy). I smirked at myself in the mirror because I knew what I was about to do. I opened up the baggy and pulled the toilet seat up. I emptied the contents into the toilet, dropped the baggy in there as well and put the seat down. I pulled my basketball shorts around my ankle and started to relieve myself into the toilet bowl. Every toot, and every ploop, put a smile on my face because I knew that there was no way I could see myself going back. I wiped myself and continued to flush the toilet. I washed my hands and I looked myself in the mirror one more time before going back to bed. As I looked in the mirror I could see the reflection of myself looking back in my eyes. A single tear came down because I knew that was all I wanted to see again.”

Excerpt from a book with a title that is private.

Written by,

Eduardo (Eddie) Godina