Dealing with my ex, part 2.

“So! Did you really think she wouldn’t tell me?”

It was said calmly, controlled.

“What?”

I said it again. Same response.

And again.

Thirds time is a charm it seems.

Mind you he didn’t get the chance to say much, I had far too much he needed to know about himself.

And boy did I let him know them. Everything I had been holding for 7 years just came flooding out, he couldn’t even try argue or explain. He’s tried it before, time after time. Yes, I am the fool here, for allowing him to have treated me badly for so long. For taking it and not speaking out when I should have, just to save having the fight.

I hate fighting.

Doesn’t help any situation screaming abuse at the other person. Didn’t help that there was a risk he would do something to hurt himself after an argument, so I didn’t.

I bottled it. Every last drop. Everytime he swore he wasn’t doing this or that, or promised he would do something and then just didn’t bother. Waiting for me to do it when it started to drive me mad looking at it.

I always knew he was doing something he shouldn’t have been. I couldn’t prove it, and the times I got the chance to, it was explained away with pitiful excuses. I wanted so much to believe them, I didn’t want to believe he would deliberately try to hurt me, so I chose to ignore the gnawing voices in my head screaming at me daily. Neglecting not only myself, but my children and my family and my friends and every other aspect of who I was before we met.

There’s no going back this time. Not for me. I’ve had more than my fair share of crap flung at me in my life and survived them. I’ve escaped prison, I’m not going back.

I’m finding myself again now. Learning who I am now. I know what I never want to have in my life again. I know I will never be someone’s doormat again. That girl I was when we met, the people pleaser, the peace keeper. She’s gone. She found her peace.

She’s a woman now.

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