I do not blame him for all of my pain. I do not hold him responsible for my low self esteem or lack thereof. He sees what I project and I project in 3D and hi-fi stereo. I do not hate him for the scars inflicted with raxor sharp tongue upon my psyche in a flash of red anger. They eventually heal.
I have found the courage that I thought had deserted me a long time ago, buried under doubt and pain and my belief that I deserved to be his personal punching bag. The slow realization, a long time in coming, that I did not have to take what he threw upon me, gave me the strength to pick myself up off of the floor for the last time.
I can finally let it go. The blue and black and purple of my bruises will slowly fade away in time, along with the unpleasant memories. The tiny drops of crimson dripping to the floor I no longer smear away, like my shattered dreams. I can put them back together. My broken bones have healed but still hurt, like my heart.
I know now that it wasn''t my fault and I hold on to that thought, I am stronger for it. I believe.... I will never again cower in a corner, afraid.
I have found myself and I can forgive him.
~Thou shalt have an everlasting Monday and stand in the moon~