Why I Write

He ponders on if I am his, if she was with another, if he was not the only one that commited a crime. He looks at his little girl as he is proved wrong.  Her skin is too pale for what she is on the inside, but he knows that it is possible now.  The guilt of his crime causes him to again ponder if he is not the only one to cross the line of faithfulness. No questions are asked, no assumptions, arguments about random things burst out in the middle of the night. Phone calls threatending her life and her families life are left on the answering machine. He doesn't show up for weeks, the calls stop and he is almost forgotten... He shows up again in her life but only on negative terms, he only comes to hurt and destroy the pride and joy in their hearts. He has done this for seventeen years, never once has a real smile shown on his face, the only smiles were smiles of hatred, shown right before he raised a hand, belt, or anything that he knew would hurt our hearts.  The same man that was supposed to hold me on the day of my birth and promisee to not let anyone hurt me was the same man that caused me the most pain, anger, stress, and the same man that made me who I am today... I have been abused in so many ways that I never want anyone to feel the same way I did. I am focused on keeping my cool in stressful situations to show that no matter what life throws at me. To be calm, I write, I write until I feel that the sorrows of life have been spilled out and washed away in the words. I write because only through writing, can the world see and understand just how much I am hurting. I write to clear myself of all negative and only leave the positive. I write to keep living and live life with others.

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