understand that, but when you have things like that drilled into you,
no matter how hard you try not to believe them, you can’t shake
them. When I look at myself, I see the person he said I was. The
image is permanently stuck there.
How I managed to pull myself out of that situation is beyond me.
I don’t think I would have if he hadn’t gone out of town for a week
and made the mistake of leaving me by myself. If he hadn’t been
completely wasted and at the whim of his friends, he wouldn’t have
left me. When I realized he was five states away and that I could
move without him knowing anything about it, I did. To ensure my
safety and the safety of those around me, I took all of the degrading
pictures he had taken of me as proof of his abuse in case he ever
tried to come for me.
Even with that, if he hadn’t died three months later of an
overdose, I’d probably be back with him. I know me.
“That’s pretty easy to say coming from someone who looks like
you,” I finally replied, forcing myself away from that line of thinking,
unable to stop the hint of fear and anger tinting my voice. Some
days all it takes is a single word to send me back there.
I also had to stop myself from sounding petty and jealous. My
sister doesn’t have a perfect life, I know this, but the fact that she
has the house with the white picket fence, the three wonderful
children, and gets enough in child support and alimony that she
won’t have to work another day until her kids are off to college, and
by then she’ll have another husband or two does at times make me
forget the life she has led.
“You could leave your house in hot rollers and a muumuu and
have three phone numbers plus a marriage proposal before you
leave the yard—all from men who are simply driving down your road
on their way to work. I, on the other hand, would be paid to go back
inside, lock the door, and to stay there forever.” Yep, there was that
hint of jealousy and bitterness I need to work on. Sometimes, no
matter how hard I try, there is no way for me hide my feelings.
See, my little sister, who is only two years younger than I am,
mind you, not only has the perfect life, but she is nearly five foot
eight and weighs probably a hundred and twenty-five, a hundred and