Will he or won’t he

My ex was overtly adept at using rage and physical intimidation to make me believe physical violence was a considered potential outcome our entire marriage. He told me on more than one occasion that he had great restraint to not physically act on his anger. He portrayed it as some super power he had and how lucky I was he could control how angry my perceived bad behavior had made him, as he towered his additional 11 inches of height over me, arms outstretched emphasizing every angry point with flexed wrists repeatedly flicking the air without landing his desired blows. 

There was a night in late 2019 that I came to fully realize my ex was incredibly capable of physical violence. This particular night he was drinking as usual, but more angry than usual. I was upstairs in the master bedroom trying to avoid him. Around 1:00 am all was quiet and I assumed he had gone to sleep, so I quietly crept downstairs to the kitchen for a snack to take back upstairs. I was so wrong. He was sitting on the couch with his headphones on. Wide awake. I didn’t  speak to him, but my very presence set him off. It was as if he had been downstairs mulling over his absolute hate for me and there I was. Out of nowhere, he leapt off the couch and charged at me, backing me up to a wall, screaming, swearing at me with his long arms flailing. I yelled at him to back away, but he wouldn’t. He put his hands on the wall on either side of me, screaming so loud, spit was leaving his mouth hitting me in the face. He was so drunk. Maybe the most intoxicated and still upright I had ever seen him. The wall was the only thing keeping him upright. One of the times he shifted his weight to steady himself, I darted under his arm and around the corner and up the stairs. As I ran up the stairs, I came face to face with my wide eyed youngest daughter and my youngest son from my first marriage. I hadn’t realized until that moment they were standing on the landing witnessing the entire exchange with ex. The shouting from downstairs had brought them out of their bedrooms. I didn’t have time to think because my ex was coming up the stairs behind me screaming how much he hated me. The kids were between me and the master bedroom, so I told them to run to the bedroom. As soon as I went through the door, I attempted to shut and lock the door. Ex was too fast and slammed the door into the wall preventing me from shutting it. The kids ran to the side of the bed closest to the door, I ran to the other side. Ex was standing there using the wall to steady himself. Those angry black eyes drilling me down. His inner demons dancing on his face lighting his eyes with pure evil. He was a man possessed. He was so focused on me he didn’t to see the kids. Still spewing hateful words he ran at my side of the bed. I climbed over the top of bed as fast as I could towards the kids yelling run. The 3 of us ran down the stairs, through the living room and out into the garage. We heard ex stumble down the hall behind us still screaming at me. He slipped on the stairs and fell on his rear end, sliding down the steps, so I believe he didn’t see where we went. While in the garage, we could hear him moving around inside the house and talking to himself, then it went silent. Minutes ticked by. Silence. My son called my oldest daughter and asked if we could come over and spend the rest of the night at her place. I needed to get the car keys and my sleeping youngest son. What we witnessed when I opened the door is a sight I still to this day regret not taking a picture of. I just wanted out and away from him. At the time taking a picture was the last thing on my mind. Ex had sat down on the loveseat and had apparently passed out. His body was faced forward, but bent sideways with the top of his head on the loveseat next to his hip. So contorted only alcohol could have allowed his body to be bent in such a way. His mug of alcohol had slipped out of his hand and was spilling out onto his lap and the loveseat. He was out cold. We grabbed what we needed and left. The image of my youngest daughter will forever be burned into my brain. Her 14 year old eyes were open wide and filled with tears. Although she has spent her whole life experiencing how critical and demeaning he is, this was her first time seeing him like this. His raw unfiltered anger looking to land on her mother. After we got to my oldest daughter’s house she sobbed for hours while laying her head on my shoulder. I had no words. I just hugged her. 

The next morning after a few hours of restless sleep I left the kids at my daughter’s house and went back home The Ex was lying on the couch asleep. The loveseat wet and alcohol stained. His clothes stained purple. His alcohol mug lying on its side empty next to him. He sat up when he heard me come in. He didn’t realize he was alone in the house. He also appeared not to remember what had transpired just hours earlier. I told him what he had said and done. I told him I believed he was attempting to physically hurt me, but his extreme drunkenness and passing out was actually my saving grace. I asked him what he had planned to do to me if I hadn’t run from him? He denied everything. I told him 2 of the kids witnessed everything. That seemed to startle him and silenced him for an ever so slight brief second. I could see his brain working in real time searching for a retort. Then he did what he always does. Justify and blame shift. He actually had the audacity to tell me if he had done what I said it was my fault. I told him I wanted him to leave the house. He told me it is his house and he will not leave. He said I was free to leave at any time, but he would prevent me from taking anything with me and the kids stayed with him.