There are not words to describe the hell you put me through during our nine years of marriage… I will never forget the incident with the butcher knife or when you tried to snap my neck.
The words you said to me two summers ago will always be the most horrendous thing ever said to me.
“I hope you kill yourself.”
When you knew I had a history of depression. When you knew my brother took his own life. Those words are ugly and hateful and I will never fully forgive you for saying them to me.
If my mom knew, she would kill you. I have no doubt about this.
So I’m out of your life now, except when we have occasion to talk on the phone. Which is fairly often. Why do I let myself talk to you in the first place? I am not sure. Maybe because you can’t hurt me anymore. Maybe because I honestly think we can be friends.
Maybe we’ll lose contact once the divorce is final. I kind of hope that’s true.
There is no place in my life for you anymore. Not since you took the symbol of my love, trust, and devotion and used it against me. In some ways that was worse than the strangling. I doubt you could ever understand why.