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Last week, after I wrote a post about how much I love Anthony we ended up in an argument. It was one of those arguments that aren't about much at all, but that repeat themselves throughout your entire relationship. This particular argument turned into a fight. That went for hours and it truly broke me for a while. It made me break down on my knees and cry, the most rejuvenating but heartbreaking cry. The type of cry that you would expect to hear from a young child. Uncontrollable and inconsolable sobs and screams of pain. The type of cry that leaves you with nothing but the need to sleep for the next 12 hours, holding on tight to your teddy.
In the end, I think I needed that cry. My hormones and my emotions have been completely out of control and I have been feeling desperate and anxious. I have been feeling irritable within my own skin and lost within my own life. I have been feeling very lonely and craving something. What, I am not sure. But all those emotions have just been swirling around within me and I have had no release. Until last Tuesday night, when I collapsed on my kitchen floor and I cried them all away.
The next morning I was determined to not let the events of the night before affect my day. So I got up and created a spring in my step. I danced with my Daughter and built up her excitement for a morning out and about. We piled into the car and sang songs to each. I called my Sister and organised a visit to see her and the kids. On the way I needed to fill the car with petrol and get some money out for coffees. So I pull into my usual petrol station. I open the back door so that I can sing and play with Evelyn while filling up the car. I was still feeling so very emotional but I was going to make this day, a good day. Evelyn was playing with her beloved football happily in the back of the car when she dropped the ball and it consequently fell out of the car and landed right between the back wheels.
As I was closing up the tank a car drove in and parked behind me, waiting for his turn at the bowser. I am not sure how or why, but I felt a vibe. I felt like I needed to rush inside to keep the stranger in the car happy. Is it possible for someone to seep so much anger that a stranger can feel that coming from within them, even when not in the same space?
I did a quick check to see if I could reach the ball and worked out that was just not going to happen. So I ran inside to pay. I got my can of coke and went up to the counter, there was no queue or wait, I paid instantly. Then remembering I forgot to get my money out, I dashed over to the ATM and retrieved the cash and ran outside to my car. Not truly understanding why I was so desperate to be fast, the stranger in the car would not have been sitting there for even five minutes.
I threw my things into my car and walked up to the strangers door. I politely tried to explain to him that my Daughters ball is beneath my car and would he please mind waiting just a moment so that I can move the car and gather the ball. The man, however, did not want to hear a word I had to say and proceeded to yell profanities at me. About how I had made him wait while I f**ked around inside. About how this was the only diesel tank. About how he needed to be at work. About how I need to move my f**king car. He then swiftly wound his window up and left me standing there, in shock, trying to process what had just unfolded before me.
I looked to the man at the bowser next to me for some recognition that what had just happened was completely out of control. I looked to him for a shrug, or a concerned smile, something that said I did not just imagine that man's barrage of abuse. But that man swiftly looked away from me.
Did that just happen?
I got back in my car and I moved it a metre up so that I could get my Daughter's beloved ball. I put it in park and looked in the mirror to find that the angry stranger had moved his car up with me. Only inches away from the back of my car, parked right over the top of that damn ball. I could not believe it. My adrenalin was pumping, fear was running through my veins. As I got out of the car that angry stranger muttered all sorts of swear words under his breath and turned his back on me. So, as I walked towards his car I said:
"Thanks for making a pregnant woman crawl beneath your car you arsehole!"
I swear, for just one brief moment, he was about to turn into a decent human being. It looked as though he was about to apologise and tell me that he did not realise. But he continued down his road of true arsehole and he says to me:
"well you made me wait you little bitch"
So, I ended up beneath the mans ute, on my hands and knees, trying to retrieve my Daughter's goddamn ball. She was screaming in the back of the car, I was crying and then man was standing there, all high and mighty. How dare I fill my car up at the only bowser that sells diesel. How dare I make him late for work. How dare I expect other humans to have any decency to treat each other with compassion and respect. How dare I be SO rude!
At what point did our own precious time become more important that human compassion? At what point did we all fall into such a fast pace that we cannot help each other, cannot lend a helping hand. In what world am I raising my Daughter that a man of 60+ years thinks that it is okay to treat a young woman with such distaste and appallingly bad behaviour. When did it become okay for him to scare a woman. A woman with a baby in the car. A woman with a baby in her belly. When did our world fall to such lows? When did decent human compassion disappear? How was he okay to watch a pregnant woman crawl beneath his car while he stood there, pride in his stance and anger in his heart.
I worry about the world that I am living in. I worry about my Daughter's generation. In a world that is only becoming more and more busy and full we are starting to lose sight of what is truly important. What is important is to love and care for each other. Be nice to each other. Support and nourish each other. No one should ever have to feel the fear and the hurt that I felt as I crawled away from his car and I cried for the rest of the day. No one should ever take such pleasure in making someone feel so much pain. What hope do our children have, of becoming compassionate adults, if our adults are acting like heartless children?
