Evan and Alice: The Unauthorized What If, What Would Have Been, Bizarro World Story

I give full credit for this idea to my friend. She sent me a screen shot of two older redheads and said she found the very doppelgangers or other world versions of myself and my now ex-husband, on a weekend day at Costco. I told her to go befriend them and ask their names as though they could be possibly close to Eben and Alison, something like Evan and Alice. She told me to write their story, like a futuristic version of what could of been if we'd stayed married. And things started to come together.

I immediately remembered that epic Seinfeld episode, with the "Bizarro Jerry," and for the past couple of weeks the pieces of this "would be" story have just been following me around in bits in pieces.

The screen shot was of this slightly older male and female, similar builds to myself and the ex, in line at Costco and suddenly I saw what would have been my future, through what I'd imagined their day shopping was like. And just like that I am writing again. 

Before we get into this, I need to stress how much of this is a re-imagining. While some moments will be based on past experiences, events, moments, feelings and anxieties, I mean in no way to paint a distinct image that whatever happens in the following is indeed a first person depiction of my actual marriage. The following story is a musing, or rather a way for me to write out what may have been a future path, but by no means is based on anything more than ideas and fictional characters. So while I appreciate you reading, don't read too much into it. If you feel triggered or have questions, just reach out. 

Alice stood in line at Coscto, mask on, with a full cart, zoning out a bit at the end of the shopping experience. As Evan shot past her to leave her to the payment part and him to the part where he got his quintessential Costco Chicken Bake. In their 20's, Evan's obsession with getting a Costco Chicken Bake was cute and fun and you didn't have to care about your health. Now it was one more thing Alice had convinced herself was contributing to her theoretically growing ulcer. She was convinced one day she'd keel over from some silent, stress induced illness, or at least be confined to a padded room for a week or so one day. 

She watched everyone scramble to get their bulk goods and was almost up to the plexi-glass protected pay area. She stared into the cart. She always thought they got so much food and then somehow didn't have anything to eat. She wasn't prepared for the damage. She remembered her uncle calling Costco the $600 dollar store when it first came out. He always said you couldn't walk in there without spending $600.00 and she'd smile at the memory of times with her uncle then see Evan eyeing expensive things and cringe and take a deep breath. 

The whole experience of Coscto, became less and less fun with age. Evan never listened to her about the budget or her list. So as soon as they pulled into the lot, Alice's tension was rising. All week, calculating, recalculating, and reworking the budget. The texts and conversations about, "Okay we can spend this much," went out the door as soon as they walked in together.

Evan always went for the flat screens and technology. "I want, I need, we should have." Alice's stomach started to knot itself up. "Don't say anything sarcastic," she'd hear in her mind. She always wanted to yell, "Well if you made more money you could buy all that shit, but we are in debt because of all the other shit you bought that we didn't have money for." All that ever came out of Alice was "Uh huh, maybe that would be nice," or "Maybe for Christmas, hun."

She'd mentally start calculating how she'd ever find a way to get that for his "Christmas" birthday. Evan's birthday was January 1st and at the forefront of their relationship he'd told her that his parents always lumped it with Christmas so he never got a real party or real celebration. It then became Alice's lot in life to make the distinction and basically make it up to him that his parents let him down. Looking back she knew she'd done this to herself by being such a "good girlfriend" and "people-pleaser," that turned into the complacent wife. Now she mentally noted which TV got the best Evan review. Maybe she would find a good sale.

Fifteen years of marriage was just weird. They knew everything about each other but had nothing in common anymore. They barely watched the same shows. They never liked to meander Costco the same way either, so Alice often just followed Evan's lead to avoid another post-shopping excursion argument. Alice diverted the crowds in Costco much like she diverted years of brewing arguments with Evan, with an eye roll and a change in path for the moment.

They went past the clothes and blankets and Alice scanned quickly. She knew she'd "buyer's remorse" and immediately return anything she got as soon as they got it home and she went other the budget again. Then she'd just have to make another trip. On they went.

The next area was the furniture, which was ripe for the beginnings of an argument. "Ev, I love that dining room table. Isn't it so pretty? That's not even that expensive," Alice commented. "We don't even sit at a table to eat. You barely eat a real meal anyway and you don't cook," Evan responded. Alice felt the sarcasm and sass kick in and put on her game face. "If I had a nicer dining room set up, I might be more inspired to sit down and use it though," Alice replied.

"We're barely home two nights a week together you keep the kid so busy and you never stop until you crawl into bed with a salad and then go to bed early so when would you use this $1,200.00 dining set? You wanna drop $1,200.00 get the damn TV. At least we'd watch the TV. Get you a bigger one for the bedroom so you can eat your salad in front of The Office in peace," Evan went on grumbling while Alice reverted into reviewing the list and pretended the whole conversation never happened.

She shut up then and directed them into the frozen section after what felt like a 5 minute eye roll. He'd beaten her down with truth and now she was tired. They never ate together because Alice was so often depressed she barely had an appetite, but she couldn't really say that out loud. Most nights after work, and after school care for the kid, then sports, and then feeding the kid and doing homework, she could barely remembered to feed herself. Evan might have been right about not needing the dining set but she still wasn't getting him his TV. He wouldn't win that way.

The next few aisles were all stressful commentary by Evan the caterer about what was better priced at Coscto versus Sam's Club, what the kid wouldn't eat, what he refused to meal plan, and what he needed around for late night comfort food. Alice was just hoping she could find some decent snacks for lunches and grab her favorite protein shakes. Evan was always on a mission.

After he loaded the cart with what was on Alice's list, and then another $50 worth of stuff they couldn't afford, Alice wandered the pharmacy aisle. She'd often pause at the weight loss supplements, always wondering if she'd dare to buy and try one. After the mental talk down of why she wouldn't waste money on it, she'd just re-up on kids gummy vitamins and allergy stuff. It was then she spotted the fresh flower end-cap and found herself smiling, but in a sad way. Alice secretly loved getting flowers and she couldn't remember the last time Evan got her some. Maybe a couple years at this point. 

She'd stopped and zoned off again when Evan caught her. "Did you get the Advil?," Evan asked. "Yeah, it's in there," Alice assured him. "Where!?," Evan demanded. "It's in there!," Alice raised her voice and noticed a couple people glanced back. She kept walking with the cart, Evan followed behind making no effort to hide he was annoyed with her. She found her spot in line.

"I'm going," Evan started but Alice interrupted, "The chicken bake, yup. I got it." His ditching out for the grand total was dodging the responsibility, or so Alice had decided. She watched everyone ringing everything up and then started her usual stressing about the entire contents of the cart, secretly planning what she might return if  it came to it. In fifteen years their marriage came down to Costco drama as the best metaphor for their relationship.

They couldn't make it through a single trip to Costco without some kind of disagreement. Alice dreaded these joint shopping days, but it was their futile attempt at quality time. She much preferred to go alone and stick to her exact list. Her world was lists now and she found comfort in them. She made lists of the budget, what they could afford, what they couldn't, where they could go for a vacation, what she needed to clean, what she needed to remind or ask Evan about, where the kid needed to go or what she needed to get done. Alice's life was lists. 

The worst of the lists included the lists of the things Evan did routinely to upset her but she just put on the complacent smile and turned on The Office for the 9,000th time. If she lived through the comedy of Dunder Mifflin life seemed less bleak. She paid the huge bill, on a credit card of course, met Evan with his Chicken Bake and off they went. When they got to the car, Evan decided he couldn't help much because he didn't want his Chicken Bake to get cold.

Alice slowly unloaded the cart and returned it. Evan turned on the car, blasted the air conditioner and picked a CD before Alice could argue. She took a moment of peace walking back from the cart return to the car. It was an amazing 90 degrees out and as much as live frustrated her, she often reminded herself how lucky she was not to live in cold, damp, gray places anymore. She got into the car and immediately got chilly.

"Can you please turn the fan for the air lower?," Alice muttered. "I don't know how you're always cold," Evan said. "Must be your cold, cold heart," he poked her and smiled as if to tease. He said this to her regularly. Around year five of marriage it became less cute and far more mean. She now just smiled and nodded hoping he would just listen to the music peacefully and finish his Chicken Bake. 

When they got home and unloaded everything Alice went and sat on her bed a minute. She heard Evan reorganizing everything she just put away and she fell to her pillow. She was so tired. Evan came in and saw her resting. "Oh Costco wore ya out huh? You're done for the day?," he asked. For a brief moment she'd thought about saying something snarky back. She couldn't handle anything more for today. 

Alice put her hair up and then said, "Yeah, I just needed a minute. Thanks for going to the store with me." Evan gave her a snide smile, "Yeah well if I had stayed home I'd hear about it. I picked the lesser of the evils I guess. You're not that bad to be around." And that was Alice's whole outlook on life from the view of a day with her husband at Costco. Maybe her and her cold heart weren't all that bad to be around. 

Alice started a list for their next Costco trip and stared at the sun again from the kitchen window. These were the moments she held close to her and zoned in on in long lines, traffic and disagreements. Evan propped himself up in his recliner to watch cooking competition shows and Alice sat down to make her lists. 

And so it was their story, that Alice and Evan lived...ever after to be seen combating Coscto for decades more of marriage. 

Honesty About Circumstance

I think it's so difficult to be honest about your circumstance, whether current or past. In a world where we are "supposed to have it together" and where Social Media defines the societal norms of posting happy families, fantastic vacations and epic gift exchanges, why would you want to be honest about going through a rough patch or being deep in the weeds at times?

Denial is real. Justification can rule your world, whether intentional or not. You never want to believe you, your family or even close friends could be in a bad way, so we often numb, put it out of our minds, and power through. These are coping mechanisms for the storms, aren't they? Because honesty about life is sometimes worse than what you're actually living. We want to hide our vulnerabilities, insecurities and everything we deem as failures.

I've been in therapy for two years dealing with it all. I'm not remotely "cured" but the progress is finally breaking through and noticeable, and boy am I going with it. I hid my circumstance from everyone for a long, long time. Or I'd let it come out at the worst times and then further alienate myself. Finding the balance has been intense, but it's been worth it, in my experience.

You can know people for a long time before actually getting to know someone. You can have one version of them imprinted in your mind and never get past the facade they want you to see. Or you'll bear something deep and in common, and break down those barriers. Those barrier-break moments, have been everything to me the past few years. They have identified my tribe.

I treat lightly on the form of honesty and with whom because I grew up very aware of upholding an image and how to keep up appearances. Some people I would never share all the details with. Some I would overshare until they were sick of me. Again, balance.

I've had to be more honest and some of it is actually freeing. Some of it probably comes out completely wrong or is almost un-explainable. Some of it paints me negatively. But at least I'm not hiding behind circumstance making myself "look prettier" than what is actually going on anymore.

I've been honest about how I spend my time, which has elicited mixed reviews. I don't have the energy to volunteer and give everyone more of me right now, and haven't for awhile. I'm actually trying to be kind to myself and repair a lot of personal life damages inflicted so it won't work to serve others if I can barely care for myself. This comes across as selfish, but I finally realize it's not at all. I refuse to give in to the obligatory and max myself out, especially for situations that lack gratitude and appreciation.

I've been honest about how work affects my life. Right now I've barely seen my hubby and planning things more than a few days ahead of time is near impossible. My mom is helping less and less, or at least it is purely determinate on the kind of help she is giving. Our sitter is already too busy and we don't have many convenient options. I also drive a lot during the week and on Saturday mornings. By Sunday it's touch and go on whether or not I will go more than a mile outside the harbor. Planning stinks unless I know everyone is off and home together, which can still change on a dime these days.

I've been honest about how I've constructed my lifestyle and what it keeps me from doing. I can't just leave my kid for a weekend or even an overnight more than once a year. Why? My life is designed to be her mom, not to get away from her. We also don't have a readily available support system for that. It takes careful planning. Regardless I want to be around my child. Sure, we all need a break, but she's only this little for so long. I don't want to be away from her much, even when she drives me nuts, so I've designed my life as such.

I've been more honest about finances. We are rebounding from some serious debt. I'm really, really bad at having debt. It stresses me out to no end. We both have made many financial mistakes in growth, and are literally paying for them. We live on a strict budget that sometimes keeps us paycheck to paycheck. We don't eat out often. We don't go shopping for "things" often. Vacations are centered around family visits. We don't spend frivolously, no matter how much we may want to. 

I've been honest about friendships. I've lost touch with people over the past 6 years that have hurt so badly and I never got closure and I owe a million apologies because I let my circumstance drive them away. Some people outgrew me. I outgrew some people myself. I've also held onto toxic relationships that were harmful just because of my circumstances or straight stubbornness. Identifying that, is a huge step in the right direction of progress for me, and I tell myself that regularly.

It sucks saying out loud, "I messed up and made bad choices. I didn't really think things through. I overspent. I overbought. I didn't pay attention. I was a bad friend or bad mom, or bad wife or bad daughter. I was bad at staying in touch. I was selfish. I was WRONG." All of those SUCK to admit! They suck to say to anyone, let alone someone in your immediately family, but that's the only way to grow.

This isn't some "honesty is the best policy" diatribe, okay, I'm not going to be a hypocrite about that. I'm not always honest about why I'm late to work, or why I can't make plans that day, because it also sucks to say "I overslept because I was up late in an argument with my husband," or "I'm so overwhelmed the thought of being social right now makes me want to eat 3 cartons of ice cream and disappear for a month," is a little too much information. So sometimes it's easier to say "I left a little later than intended and hit bad traffic," or "I forgot I already made plans that night that are conflicting." In a previous job where I was getting demoted and I wanted to say, "I'm going through a rough time at home right now trying to find my way out of a bad situation, so I need to not be demoted and in a negative environment please," I ended up quitting and saying, "I'm just going to be a mom for awhile." Honestly doesn't always pan out as applicable, if we're being honest about honesty!

Having been raised in addiction, I'm actually well versed on the different variances of honesty, so for me, being honest about your circumstance isn't some statute that will make you happier, go to heaven or even set you free. For me, being honest about your circumstance helps me feel less guilty, ashamed and filled-with-failure, rather than continuing some charade. For me, embracing the honesty about my circumstance is cultivating the continuation of my growth. 

At the end of the day, I just want to be able to scrape myself off of the pavement of life, look in mirror and say "You grow girl." And for the last few weeks, I have been able to do that.