It's been seven months since I held the phone in my hand and asked STBX if he had ever molested our daughter.
And after he said yes, I told him if I ever saw him again, I would kill him.
Seven months since I made my one and only death threat.
You know, death threats are a dime a dozen on t.v. Everyone seems capable of making them or getting them.
But for an average Jane Schmo livin' in the burbs and NOT sellin' weed, death threats that are real and heart felt are actually quite difficult.
My only follow through was the verbal assault at the elevator in the court house which I muffed up. ("Motherfucker" does not turn heads. 50% of the people at the courthouse at any given time could probably fall under this umbrella. The phrase I should have screamed was "childfucker". This is an error that I regret to this day.)
But I really need to cut myself some slack. I mean, do normal people stand in front of their full length mirrors and practice their death threats? Is that what mobsters do when they are in their apprenticeship?
Perhaps one of the positive things I could draw from the last seven months is that I desperately wanted to kill this man and I didn't.
Until you live day in and day out with the overwhelming compulsion to destroy another human being, you really don't know how strong you are.
I have people tell me that I am strong because I've made it this far.
My strength doesn't lie in the fact that I survived.
My strength lies in the fact that he survived.