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  • At The Tip of The Quill

I Expected... (...this not to be a rant)

I expected when you said you would be my best friend, you meant it.

I expected when you said you loved me, you knew what that meant.

I expected when we said 'I do', it would be forever.

I expected when you said you understood trouble, you would never be my worst.

I expected the first time your fist struck my body, it would be the last.

I expected to be able to understand abuse.

I expected when you said you would change, you would. I expected when I left you (or you kicked me out) the first, second, fifth, twelfth time, it would be my last.

I expected when you tried to kill me, to die.

I expected when I checked the box at the Doctor's office, "Yes, someone in my home is hurting me", someone would help.

I expected to be mentally able to handle anything.

I expected when I moved halfway across the country to escape you, you would leave me alone.

I expected all these years later, you wouldn't find a way to hurt me or those I love.

I expected the past to be left behind forever.

and yet...

My cat you abused never recovered. Her mouth became a living cancer; an ongoing testimony of your cruelty and neglect.

I expected her to live a long, full life once out of your reach.

I expected my nephew/niece would never have to bury their best friend and guardian after only four short years together.

I expected you to respect and cherish life.

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