Sunday

In my own little corner of my own little room, I can be anything I want to be... Cinderella. I hide in the basement, I hide in the bathroom, I hide in the laundry room behind mountains of clothes. I hide wherever I have to. When he's drunk if I stay out of sight long enough he forgets I'm here. I realized this morning that I am clinching my teeth in my sleep again. Last night he made burritos. He brought me one while I was doing laundry. He was drunk. I declined and said thank you, I wasn't hungry. He insisted, "I made it for you." That struck a nerve, my mother would go buy me butt ugly clothes, not because I needed them, but because she liked to shop. I'd say thank you but they are not my style. She would try to guilt me, "I spent all that time shopping and you don't appreciate it." Finally after years and mountains of unworn clothes I finally said, "But I didn't ask you to." She didn't know what to do with that answer either, but I gained some respect. Nabal insisted I take it, talking to me like I was a baby or addle minded. Finally I took it to shut him up. Then he insists I take a bite so he can see. I lost it, "I am not hungry. I am trying to be polite and straight with you." He snatched it back and took a bite as he left the room. Control. He passed out shortly after and I was free to breath again. I kinda know no one will ever read this. Well, unless something happens to me. I don't put it past him. I am a big ball of fear. I feel I can't move fast or far enough to get away.