17. J'accuse! Now what?

I couldn't begin to imagine what D thought as he drove away from his former home that night, after being called out for lying. J'accuse! I had exclaimed, and he could do nothing but acquiesce.

I had said everything I wanted to say. Every dress rehearsal in my head, every line that I wanted to deliver, everything that I wanted to get across. I had absolutely no "I wish I had said THAT instead!" moments after the fact.

But here's the lesson I learned, which I would end up learning again and again until I could recite it in my sleep. I had gotten my message across, and I did not feel one bit better.

You can say everything you want to say. Everything you rehearsed, those "perfect lines" that you wish you had said in the moment. Well, I have to tell you: I said them all, every last one of them. And I couldn't have asked for a better reception on D's end.

But nothing changed. Having that chance, to say so much, did not change one damn thing. Everything that had happened, had still happened. It didn't change the past, it didn't change how I found out about it, and it didn't change who D was or how hurt I felt.

What I found was that getting all of that said was more of a logistical victory. It set the stage for the coming months, where I was going to have to "negotiate" with my own husband for control of our finances, our child's welfare, our house, and our divorce. I was not feeling optimistic about husband-wrangling.

At least I had now tipped the balance of power in my favor. This was a new feeling, this sense of being at least equal with D and not being so afraid of him anymore. I hated him, but mostly I hated myself for letting him control me. That would become a common theme in the coming months.

But then I went to the state-mandated parenting seminar the next day, and realized I was going to have to deal with this prick for the rest of my life, in some way or another. I entered that seminar knowing full well that I was going to have to co-parent with this man. What I left with was the lingering feeling that I was going to hate this long haul. I actually used the analogy - and please forgive me, as I look back on this now and cringe - but back then I would tell people that D was like a tumor that I couldn't get removed, so having to deal with him was going to be like having chemo for the next 15 years. Or, in another desperate analogy, I told people I felt like I was going to prison for 15 years.

Either way, you see the desperation and the utter, simple despair that I felt. I don't feel that way now, which mystifies me somewhat, that I feel better now than I did. (It's that whole "time heals all wounds" thing that sucks in its truth.)

Ah, but there is more drama ahead. Because this utterly ridiculous divorce process would have a break, in the form of D going to visit his relatives in the South for a week, over Thanksgiving.

It was not exactly the break you'd think it would be.