Today I was at the mall returning some things, and doing some shopping as well. I stopped into the Body Shop to pick up my husbands favorite body washes. As I was putting everything in my bag, ( I carry my own bag around the mall to shave from the useless bags they put my stuff in) the cashier noted that they collect change to donate to WEAVE, a local non profit whose
mission is to bring an end to domestic violence and sexual assault in partnership with our community.
Last year my husband participated and came in 4th out of 600! He ran in high healed shoes-- a mile, to show solidarity to survivors and victims of sex assault and D.V. He is participating this year as well.
I had a whole .35 in change so instead I threw in all the paper money I had, which was $17 dollars. I still have a hard time not getting choked up, the memories of those times still live inside of me. I can go months without coward entering my mind, the things he's done or said and sometimes all it takes is a scent, a phrase, a movie, something that triggers those dark times and I'm sucked back in. The other day is was a note sent to me by his first ex-girlfriend about our daughter, the one hooker shoes tried to convince him wasn't his. It caught me off guard the ex, reaching out, but it's not the first time she's left me email or comments, and I've said as much to the judge that his other two ex's collaborated the stories of D.V. Coward can try to pretend that it never happened, that he never did any of those things. That he didn't force his first girlfriend in circa 1985 to have an abortion, and then we buried a daughter three years later. The truth has a way of coming out, in the most interesting ways; mostly when you least expect it to.
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