Untitled

         I would lock myself in the bathroom. Maybe lock is a strong word. I would go to the bathroom to cry. In our home I felt lost, hurt, confused, unloved. Alone.
         I would sit alone on the couch two feet away from him. I would cry alone in our bed and with my back to him he pretends to sleep. One time we even talked. It was all my fault. I started it and I was really upset for no reason at all. I was even prescribed Prozac.
         I was trapped in my own head. Was this real? I didn't talk about it, not to Mom and Gram or Jesse. I'd just exaggerate or over emphasize.
         He didn't want me to stay with family. He was over seas but he might as well have been on another planet. Some people will look down on me because he was deployed when I told him I wanted a divorce. But he didn't love me.
         He didn't love himself. He will always play the victim in this relationship, but he did plenty of victimizing. I was worthless. I couldn't have made him happy, even when I played into his disgusting fantasy.
         I look back and understand why he was so adamant that I stay isolated on base. Why would he want me to be surrounded by support. They all saved me and now I am healing. I pick up the pieces one at a time. The puzzle is coming together.
         Today I am happy. Tomorrow looks promising as well.