Hi Unique, I'm posting a portion of my book that illustrates leaving a "relationship" and the petty distribution of "things." Todd was the jerk I was "married" to, and Sally and George were friends helping me to get out. The part I wanted to get across was that I ended up with my SELF, and he ended up with nothing.***

Early on a Saturday morning, when Todd was expected to be working over-time, Sally and George planned to help me move. But Todd did not schedule overtime that weekend. Instead, he brought glazed doughnuts and coffee home after his graveyard shift, intending to share in pretend domestic bliss. Should I dare piss him off by packing right in front of his face? I started to pile my books in boxes.
Todd grew angrier with me as I wrapped and packed. “My heart is in my throat,” he said. “Where do you think you are going? Your heart is as f as ice. It’s colder than a witch’s tit.” Didn’t he already have another helpless victim to humiliate? As I was wrapping a baking dish in newspaper, he yelled, “You can’t take that. Put that pot back!”
“Give me a break! My mother gave me this baking dish.”
As we grappled over who bought what when, Todd grabbed my throat with one hand. He pushed me into a corner and aimed a fist with his other hand, about to break my nose. Staring at his knuckles, I wondered if this juncture was worth the whole journey. I took a deep breath. Todd passed on the punch when Sally and George arrived as planned, letting themselves in to help me pack.
“Do you want me to call the police?” George asked. “Do you want to press charges?”
Todd backed off. “She’s still my wife. Mind your own business.”
“Her safety is our business,” Sally said.
“So, now you need security guards?” Todd sneered. “Like I said, you can’t take care of yourself.”
“Hey, Todd, why don’t you and I talk outside?” George suggested.
“Why don’t you kiss my royal red ass?” Todd left in a huff. My friends and I stood looking at each other, realizing the close encounter with domestic violence.
“Let’s get moving,” Sally said.
We quickly loaded the boxes without taking time to wrap and pack. I was leaving with all that I needed, including a warm heart. As I left, I looked back into the apartment to see a vacant shell of a living room. Todd would come home to nothing to show for a life with his eighth wife. Rather than feeling free, I was feeling edgy, like a fugitive. Todd was a snake that slithered unseen through the grass or coiled under a rock until he was ready to strike.