Justice isn’t always good enough, but off to jail he goes.

Last week I saw my abuser. Not him actually, but in another man. I was supporting my friend who was a character witness to the destruction her ex-husband caused. He had attempted to murder his (now ex) girlfriend. My friend was setting the stage for his path of destruction and abusive behavior from years passed. This was not a one time gig. He is a monster hiding in plain sight. His ability to seem “normal” is what traps his victims while he grooms them for his attacks.

His family and friends stand up for him because even those closest to him refuse to see or believe it. Delusional even after a crime scene that looked like a clip straight out of Carrie, leaving his most recent victim fighting for her life. I hope to write their full story one day soon, but for today, this is about me. By me, I mean in a way, all of the abused. All of the victims.

As I drove toward the courthouse, knowing the last time I was here was when I was facing my own abuser, my stomach began to knot. My anxiety rose and my body tensed. Pulling into the parking lot I scanned it just to look for him. Knowing full well he wouldn’t be there because this was not our case, this was not my life anymore, but also knowing my restraining order expired years ago. I steadied my breath, holding it and then releasing. If the only thing I can control is my…