Feeling: liberated
Listening to: Blue October - Dirt Room
Reading/Watching: The Tudors, Season 2

And it's done.

I woke up with a stomach churning, could barely choke down the cup of coffee that Lynne so thoughtfully brewed for me. She came over last night to keep me company, because she knew I'd need it.

Drove to the courthouse, and circled for a few minutes before I found it. Parking cost $10, and my hands were shaking writing the check. I had Blue October playing in the car, and the third track of their new album was the one playing when I turned off the engine. Naturally, it followed me into the building, cycling over and over in my head so that I walked to its drumbeat.

Two and a half hours of waiting. Matisse came along for moral support, hugging or hand-holding when necessary, and often would just sit quietly while I jittered. At first I couldn't shake a fearful feeling, pacing around and clenching my hands and stomach and jaw, feeling like I was doing something horrible or attempting something crazy, until the monotonous echo of the song in my head took the forefront of my thoughts. I couldn't dig it out, so instead I chanted it silently.

You think you own me
You should've known me
You took the future and the food off my family's plate
You think you used me?
I'm stronger than you
You took my money, but it's useless
When you see what I do to you.
(Blue October, "Dirt Room")

By the time we actually got to working out the ugly details with the lawyers, I was solidly back into calm and certain again. I didn't want to haggle, I just wanted it done. Wanted it signed.

He wanted to haggle. Matisse was ready to strangle him, and so was I.

But in the end, it's done. I don't care about the details; it's just money. I could have haggled back and gotten a more fair split, but that would have meant a second day and a second set of fees and a second restless morning and a second helping of every other headache. Instead, I agreed and signed and walked away. It's money. I'll make more.

And I'm free.

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