January 25

     It was Christmas eve and I was sitting out back by our pool. It was freezing and late, and all I could think about was if Santa could come by soon, I would catch a ride the hell out.  But I looked up, the lights in my kids rooms were still on, and I knew that even if that fucking sleigh did come, I wouldn't be able to leave. Not them. So I lit another cigarette, and thought what a miserable holiday this had been.  His moods were spinning wildly, and he was accusing me of more and more weird things.  Stealing His clothes. His credit card. His cell phone.  Hiding files -- eventually of slashing his car tire. All of which were accounted for, car tire never slashed after inspection by mutual friends.  But the look in His eyes was so scary, I almost didn't recognize Him.  And while he had become meaner in the past few years, pointedly so to my daughter and I, the past few weeks had been unbearable.  I had no idea that by early Christmas morning, I would wake up to a screaming match between he and my daughter.  He just couldn't control himself -- waking up by 5:00 am and making so much noise the entire house would be jolted upright.  It was intolerable. Impossible to understand. But eventually it got to the point where I just didn't care, I just wanted Him to leave.  Our feelings were so continually crushed, my nerves shot, I just wanted Him to go...