Post by Angie on May 31, 2007 12:40:08 GMT -5
ywg2.proboards80.com/index.cgi?board=inspiration&action=display&thread=1180630701
I can't ever tell this to your face. You wouldn't take it as I intend it anyway. You never search for people's true intentions. You always think everyone's out to get you. Maybe I finally am.
It's abuse, what you've been doing all these years. If you you refuse to believe believe it's emotional, you can't deny it's been physical. But the emotional abuse is what hurts the worst. The emotional abuse is what we face every damn day of our lives. And that will never change.
I know of the horror stories they try to hide from me. Stories of before. Stories of when you had no control. It's almost impossible to believe it could have been that much worse, but then I look at them, and I see the resentment and the anger and the traits they didn't mean to pick up. Then I believe it.
Do you even care? You stay with us, and you think that's enough. Some days I think we might be better off if you gave up on that.
He was cold to you. He ignored you. He abused you. The only time he saw you was when he was trying to hurt you. You think that's an excuse for how you treat us. You justify your actions by telling yourself that he is all you saw, so he is all you can be. Surely you can be smarter than that. I never expect you to be, though.
She was devastated when they had to leave, as is to be expected, but she admits that it is for the best. They're much happier now. I want to leave too. We need to leave for our own sakes. We just can't live like this forever.
But she has to. She can't get out. She never will. She doesn't have to courage to admit she wants to.
I will go away from you someday. I will not come back to you. I will not look back to you. But I will come back for her. "For the [one] who cannot out." (Sandra Cisneros, House on Mango Street) To help her through a life with you. To show her that I'm finally okay. To give her an outlet like the one she and I always give one another. To give her the one, true friend that you could not.
I can't ever tell this to your face. You wouldn't take it as I intend it anyway. You never search for people's true intentions. You always think everyone's out to get you. Maybe I finally am.
It's abuse, what you've been doing all these years. If you you refuse to believe believe it's emotional, you can't deny it's been physical. But the emotional abuse is what hurts the worst. The emotional abuse is what we face every damn day of our lives. And that will never change.
I know of the horror stories they try to hide from me. Stories of before. Stories of when you had no control. It's almost impossible to believe it could have been that much worse, but then I look at them, and I see the resentment and the anger and the traits they didn't mean to pick up. Then I believe it.
Do you even care? You stay with us, and you think that's enough. Some days I think we might be better off if you gave up on that.
He was cold to you. He ignored you. He abused you. The only time he saw you was when he was trying to hurt you. You think that's an excuse for how you treat us. You justify your actions by telling yourself that he is all you saw, so he is all you can be. Surely you can be smarter than that. I never expect you to be, though.
She was devastated when they had to leave, as is to be expected, but she admits that it is for the best. They're much happier now. I want to leave too. We need to leave for our own sakes. We just can't live like this forever.
But she has to. She can't get out. She never will. She doesn't have to courage to admit she wants to.
I will go away from you someday. I will not come back to you. I will not look back to you. But I will come back for her. "For the [one] who cannot out." (Sandra Cisneros, House on Mango Street) To help her through a life with you. To show her that I'm finally okay. To give her an outlet like the one she and I always give one another. To give her the one, true friend that you could not.