Walking Away

"Love Shouldn't Hurt." A simple phrase that has taken me what seems like a lifetime to understand. First my Father, then myself, and finally my husband. This story is only going to discuss the last part, my husband. The love of my life. The man that made my heart skip a beat every time he bit his lip ever so gently or smiled his sexy little smile. Every women who knows love, knows the man I am talking about. He has been my rock when I needed him most and my hero when I didn't even kn ow I needed him. Every one who meets him tells me how good looking he is and how kind he is. They say, "You are so lucky to have him." What they don't know is the man I love, and they adore lives a lie. My man may have been my rock when I needed him. But, his fist hurt like iron slabs when I didn't. His words pierced my heart like daggers when all I needed was love and comfort. My love became my worse nightmare. I feared every time he would walk in the door. I didn't know if I would receive Dr. Jekyl or Mr. Hyde. I am not ready to discuss the details of the abuse. But, I will say for the last 5 years of my life I have lived in hell. Sure everything may have appeared normal on the outside. A nice house, nice car, nice things but, what does all that really matter when your falling apart from the inside out? What does it matter when you have become just an empty shell of the person you once were? What does it all matter when you hate everything about yourself? What does it all matter when all you want to do is just......DIE?

I knew I needed a drastic change in my life before I either was found murdered, had a complete mental break down, or we lost our daughter. I sought out help through the local Women's Shelter for about the 20th time but, this time I knew I would have the courage and strength to leave.

As I am writing this my daughter and I our safe. I have no idea what my next step in life will be. I don't know where we will end up. Hell this place is only a day to day shelter. I might wake up tomorrow and not have a roof over my end. But, I do know a couple of things. Today I am safe. I am in charge of my own life and it feels so good to say that. I don't have to live in fear anymore. I no longer want to die and feel like my life has a new meaning and a new purpose. I can't explain it but I feel like a brand new person. I do plan on writing about my story. From the beginning to the present. Starting with my childhood and the abuse I dealt with. Living in group homes, drug, addiction, rape, assault, jail, etc.. You name it I lived through it. I am not a writer by any means I just want to find a healthy way of dealing with my bullshit and I have found writing to help.