So yesterday we woke up at five am to be able to be in Miami at 9. I don’t live four hours away from Miami but the traffic as soon as you hit the city is so damn slow that last time we went we sat in the highway for an hour and got to my lawyer’s office so late we had to wait until he had another opening and I almost peed my pants in the car stuck in traffic.
We showed up to my lawyer’s office and sat down with the paralegal to review all the paperwork we had to give them to prove to them our marriage is not a sham. So we went through, marriage certificates, emails, phone records, deeds, life insurance, health insurance, affidavits from friends and family stating they believe our wedding to be a real one and have now to pay another $1,010 to pay for my residency application which could be denied of course but that needs to be sent nonetheless.
As I sat there, trying to remember how many bloody times I have been in that office for the past eight years, my lawyer made a quick appearance and told the paralegal to submit everything at the same time and not give the immigrations agent a chance to hold onto anything to get me out of the country.
Apparently one my lawyer’s clients showed up to his interview thinking he was going to be questioned about his marriage and instead was put into detention and deported out of the country.
Poor Dear Husband, who no matter how often I tell him that is a possibility seems to be in denial of what could happen to me, had a horrified look on his face.
I don’t live in constant fear of being deported. I think there are worse things that could happen as long as everyone I love is healthy and alive anything else to me is small potatoes. But the idea of being detained for months until they can fill an airplane and send me to Colombia fills me with anger. Anger that they would dare to hold me like a criminal, anger that I would have to sit on a cell with a bunch of strangers while we await someone else to decide on our future. I never came to this country illegally so the fact that they would treat me like I broke the law when I haven’t even jaywalked in my life pisses me off.
The process is underway and once more things are out of my hands. For someone who likes to be in control, knowing that my future doesn’t depend on me makes me antsy.
Sometimes I want to fight and claw my way in here and others I realized I’ve been here for so long trying to do things right and still it doesn’t go my way. I sometimes feel like quitting and moving away and that’s it. I have been holding on for so long to the dream of staying here that my fingers hurt and I am close to not giving a damn anymore.
Australia is starting to sound awesome, Canada, who doesn’t like Canadians? I think I could pick up again and start all over but it all seems so unfair to poor Dear Husband who never asked for any of this.
He seems to like the idea of moving away when all I want it’s a little stability, a semblance of normalcy in this crazy life of mine.