by J.R. PETE
You will never again have power over me like you did. I have grown wiser with each stab, poisonous attack, and backhanded swing. I should indeed have been stronger and known better about my attacker.
You promoted loneliness and solitude even when there were five of us. You made sure no one heard our whispers or pleas. At birth, our mother named us after Saints out of love: you called us ungodly names for your amusement. Just your temper alone would bring tears to our eyes because we knew what was coming and how long it would last.
Decades of abuse made me weary and lax with my defenses, so I am partially to blame. But no more. I am making a stand here and now. I once spent nights crying for you, yearning for your compassion, understanding, and love.
I have forgiven you but will not forget what you did. I will pray for you, but I will no longer tolerate this behavior. I can now walk away. I now have a choice. I choose the distance. I choose my own life. I choose to be happy.
Prompt: Crying For You