I am in an abusive relationship.
There I said it, it's out in the open. And I know the house loves me so I'm going to keep living here despite the bruises and broken bones. At least until I can find a house that loves me better. Though even then I'll probably keep coming back.
This isn't anything new. I keep making excuses, saying how it's my fault but really is it? That concussion, I said it was because I flipped my head while drying my hair. I might be blind and clumsy but the house uses this to its advantage.
The beatings have become more frequent of late. My elbow bruise hadn't even changed color before my finger was broken. My feet have bruises top and bottom from bottles of shampoo and bars of soap being tossed at me while I'm trying to bathe.
I'm not leaving. Not until it's bad. Bad is a broke fever or cancer or something.
If I don't make it give the sheep a kisses for me and the teddy bears too. You can have my shoes. I love you guys but I love the house too.
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