Friday, 24 April 2015


There are moments when I am NOT over it.  When I want to tell him how much I hate him, how much I fucking hate him, and everything he did to me over the years.  I want to list, again, all the things he stole from me, all the things he put me through, all the pain he caused me:  deliberate, conscious, manipulative cruelty.  The things he stole with a monetary value - the tens of thousands of dollars he coerced out of me.  The things even more valuable with no cash value:
my chance to have children, my self-esteem, my belief and trust in the basic goodness of other people.

They say to live a good life is the ultimate revenge.  They say that one day, if you're truly happy, you can let all past hurts and injustices go.  I can't say I believe it.  But I'll keep trying.