To my abuser

This is a letter I should have written a long time ago.  A letter to tell you how I feel, to tell you how I walk on through the storm of my own life, despite of you.  Because my life goes on, second by second. Some seconds are painful and tears up the wounds you inflicted on my soul, but others are filled with joy and strength. Strength to move on, to take control over my life.  I’m not yours to have.  I’m my own, not a thing to be used at will, but a soul with an amazing capacity to grow.

You came into my life at one of those weak seconds when all I wanted was to be understood, to be seen. And you saw, gained my trust and destroyed it in one foul move. I couldn’t feel the pain then, but the hole in my soul and mind grew steadily until I broke 9 years later. I kept it within, carried a heavy burden no child should bear alone. But I did.

9 years later the gaping hole to my own personal hell opened once more, and dragged me down and away from life itself. Pulling me senselessly towards the edge, made me taste blood again. But I stopped before I fell…or so it felt. I despised myself, hated the fact that I was a human being capable of feeling love and lust…I just wanted to kill the feelings within, distract me from the cruel reality. I beat myself, physically and mentally, and all it did was to make me feel it even stronger. I buried it and myself in two different graves, and tried to forget

To no avail….

Your ghost is trying to spook me again, trying to make me less of a woman that I am, trying to take my humanity from me…but you will not succeed. Yes, it is painful and the thoughts make me cry and prevent me from sleeping dreamless dreams. But NO! I won’t give in…NEVER!