I know it's too early for you to be seeing any humour in this at the moment, Lou, but one day you will. Your thread has made me reflect a lot on my own past (somehow I managed to meet TWO bastards - luckily they both did me a favour by leaving...) and I just wanted to share something with you that hopefully will let you know that one day you will be able to see things in a less scary way.
Anyway, anyway, anyway, when bastard no 2 left, he did the whole drama queen 'I'm throwing all my stuff in to black sacks and driving off with tyres squealing and you'll never see me again' thing. I have a very surreal memory which still makes me laugh now - I was standing in the hall, his stuff was literally everywhere and he was shouting. I said, genuinely bewildered, "but why aren't you using your suitcases?" I didn't laugh at the time but that one still makes me howl with laughter 4 years on. The best one, however, was after he left, I (like you did) walked round my house to see what was left. I opened the bathroom cabinet and, sure enough, shampoo, soap, toothpaste, the lot was gone (he must have thought 'Ha! Now she'll see how horrible she was, I even had to take the colgate'). Then I noticed something still tucked in the corner that he hadn't seen. I put my hand in, pulled it out and.... it was a tube of haemorrhoid cream.
The thought of him driving off like (in his head) the hero of some psychological thriller/war film and then lying in bed on his first night of freedom (i.e. with the OW in the next village) thinking 'What a big man I am but, fuck me, my arse really itches' still makes me absolutely weak. I'm laughing now just remembering!
I know it's too early for you to be thinking things like this but I just wanted you to know that one day you will feel happy at the lucky escape you've had. x