When the massive chandelier fell, my husband ignored our daughter’s screams to protect his ex’s child. I shielded her with my own back. After the dust cleared, my daughter wiped my tears and whispered, “Mommy, let’s leave daddy behind.” When my husband finally turned to look at us…

I needed to make.

I stared at that wretched figure through the rain. My chest felt tight, filled with a complex, swirling tempest of emotions. It wasn’t the agonizing heartbreak of the past. It wasn’t even the triumphant satisfaction of a victim watching her abuser suffer. It was an overwhelming, profound sense of existential desolation.

Life is a brutal continue reading …