My Worst Mistake,

I’m done.

Done pretending.
Done performing.
Done portraying a life that isn’t real.

I’m done falling victim to your mind games.
I’m done swallowing my anger just to keep the peace.
I’m done allowing anyone—especially you—to speak to me the way you do without fighting back.

Vague, ignorant cuss words. That’s all you’ve got.

Because no matter how hard you try to paint me as the villain, you can’t.

I’m sorry looking in the mirror is getting harder for you as it gets easier for me.
I’m sorry you’re so lost in your own abusive terror that you can’t see things for what they are.
I’m sorry I ever gave you the impression that this was acceptable in my family.

Most of all? I’m sorry I didn’t run sooner.

Your words used to echo in my mind, looping like a curse.
Your attempts to create fear only manifested strength.

Because you don’t scare me anymore.

I know my mistakes. I carry them. I own them.
But I am fighting the good fight.

And you? You were given love. Undeserved, but real.
Unconditional love that would have backed you through anything.
But instead of cherishing it, instead of protecting it, you beat and tore that love into shreds.
You ripped it apart with every act of physical and mental abuse.

You’re not stupid.

You’re evil.

And I was blind.

But never again.

I don’t hold grudges. Until now.

You made your bed. I made mine. They are not the same. They will never be the same again.

Because you hurt me. You hurt my children.

And for that, I wish you nothing.

No love. No peace. No solace. No redemption.

I hope, like your violence and damage replay over and over in my mind, that while the tears ran down my face, those three words never leave yours.

Fuck. You.

You are incapable of love.
You are incapable of change.
You are incapable of even loving yourself.

And now, I see that.

And I will never forget it again.

Sincerely,
The Warrior.