You stole my heart at sixteen, and I’ve loved you throughout. Even when you were trying to get with your friend’s sister many moons ago. I don’t know what I feel anymore, eighteen years in, with two kids and one on the way. I’m always sad because you’re abusive to me and the kids. Hitting them just makes me hate you more. Why do you have to talk like that to us?
You can’t see any of your problems. I’m certain you have f**ked someone else at some point, even though you’re always accusing me of cheating! I’m not allowed to have a job just in case, “I get close to a man,” were your words. My stupid ass has been totally faithful. I’m scared to leave you, and I’m scared to survive without you.
You have always said you’d make my life hell if I left you. But, I’m unhappy staying and seeing our kids hate you more each day. You’re turning into my father; a controlling narcissist. I have not an ounce of belief that there are any good men out there. Sometimes I think I’m better off dead so that this pain will stop. How can I bring a baby into this?
He won’t change or realize what he’s doing. He always blames us. He just wants to smoke weed and play games on his phone when he’s home. He acts like a stupid teenager if I don’t give him sex. And when I do give him sex he asks me questions like, “You didn’t enjoy it, did you?” I’m broken. I just want the pain to end.