Is it strange that I kind of want to end this in a fight? I don't want to go gently into the night. I don't want to be quiet about it. I've been quiet for eight years. I've been a doormat for eight years. I want to go out of this kicking and screaming and scraping and sweating and bleeding. I want to scream until my throat is raw .. until every ounce of resentment and pent up anger and anguish is verbalized and vocalized.
I'm told that it will be a futile endeavour. That I'll end up hurt in the end anyway. That it will all backfire and I'll be made into the villain. That my emotions will be manipulated to suit the needs of the opposing party. The blame is always mine. Of course it is.
I wish my brain would let go of this.
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