I never took that Solo Road Trip I spoke of in the last entry.  And maybe it’s just as well.  There wasn’t love to return to, that’s just what I had to tell myself to justify the nightmare I lived in.

After everything I went through growing up, after the pain of cutting off a relative, I can only look at myself in disbelief that I allowed a man to treat me that way.  Who the fuck was that girl?  And how do I make sure she never gets to make the decisions again?

I’m too good for this.  I was too good for him.  I’m too good for the people taking his side and putting me in jeopardy again because they refuse to see evil in a friend.  But what does being good get you in this world?  Being the better person really just isn’t as much fun as hurting people as badly as they have hurt you.  Does the fact that I still won’t hurt people, even when they have hurt me, make up for any of this?

What makes it stop?