This article was originally published on the College Park Patch.
I was standing in line waiting to pay at the grocery store, lost in thought as I often was during this time. I clearly had a dissatisfied look on my face. The cashier gave me a smile and said, “Oh come on, it can’t be that bad.”
“I’m getting a divorce,” I replied flatly.
Everything seemed to stop. I couldn’t hear the beeping of items being checked out, the music playing over the speaker system was suddenly quiet. The words left my lips before I had a chance to realize what I was saying. I hadn’t really admitted it to myself yet, but I knew in my heart my marriage was over, and here I was in the grocery store trying the sentence out for myself.
“I’m getting a divorce.” How did it sound being spoken out loud? Would it hurt less the more I spoke those words?
“Let me give you some advice…” the cashier said holding a bunch of bananas in mid air.
I rolled my eyes and let out an exasperated sigh. Immediately aware of this rude behavior I stumbled over the words, “I’m sorry,” while trying to think of a better apology. And the cashier looked at me with such a kind smile, eyes reflecting my scared face.
“You got kids?”
I nod, “Yes, two.”
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