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I  lay in bed and have the same dream. Can’t help it. The dream is pressed in my mind like an enchanted rhapsody. I go back to the same scenario where I have to make a choice between going forward to where I am or where I could have been if I had stayed with him. The man who broke my heart. Who stole my dreams. Who took my children and turned my life upside down. Who made my mother afraid in her 80’s as she saw the blood in his eyes. I almost went back to him in that final moment.  Every time I think about it I get sick, tormented, and  imagine myself wanting to die. That is what life would be like going back to his world. Yet, in my dreams, I still go back to that moment when I had the chance to reconsider remarrying my ex.

He was cold, controlling, and took notes on everything I did wrong.  The man in the dream would go into the children’s rooms and advise the children what a bad mother that I was.  I swore to myself that I never wanted my son to be like his father. I never wanted my daughter to marry someone like her dad. Yet, they both turned out like him.

There was a time that I thought about remarrying my ex husband.  I would come to Georgia and try to work out marriage counseling. I would work out trying to live with him. However seeing him and his pastor brought it all back to me.  The lying. The deceit.  The talking behind my back. The recording he did of my voice. The writing down of everything I did. The meanness. The disrespect. So many things that showed that I could never live with him and be happy. My children had learned not to respect me because of their father. I realized that I could not live with him and ever trust him again.

However, once more I am tossed into the scenario and I go back  and I give him one more chance. I can’t let him touch me or  let him be near me. I am disgusted. The mere look of him disgusts me. The thought of being near him disgusts me. I am afraid of everything that he has done to me. The power that he has over me and over my children. I realize my family is weak. I can’t go home. My mother and father are afraid of my ex-husband.  I can’t go home. I can’t start my life again. I need to start life again and to be near my family. I wish mom and dad would let me come home. But I can’t. Momma please let me come home. Ray can come home. Ray is the older brother. Why can’t the baby sister come home?  I need to come home and start again?  I am cracking up here!

My ex has a father and a mother. He has full family support.  I have no one. No one!   They are all so religious.  So very religious.  Not realizing that their religion is filthy rags!  No real kindness. No love!  Just filthy rags!  It’s easy to pretend to be religious without a heart. It is easy to be religious in a group. It is hard to be alone when you have no one and you have to survive on your own. I have hurt for so long that hurting is just commonplace.  Wondering what peace feels like when your heart is shattered and your heart is broken.  I need to get help. Wait!  Let me go back to bed and go back to the scenario and this time choose him and stay with him this time. I can purchase some good drugs so I won’t mind the hurt and pain and stay comatose through the anguish and survive through it.  Let me try again to see if this time I will make it through without  wanting to die.  One more drink of the poison chalice, as I wait for his return.

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