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Seven hours

I’ve been staring at the wall for the last hour, maybe two hours. The paint is chipping and I know what I look like. I’m a sacrificial lamb awaiting to be offered up for the guest. What they don’t know is that I’m going to gut the guest. What they don’t know is that I’m not going to take it laying down. Today I have my game face on. I’m not going to let anything show. I’m not going to let them know that I’m hurting and I’m not going to let it show that I’m affected by them having Shane. Even though it’s all that I can think about. I cried so hard last night that my eyes were swollen this morning and my head was pounding.

I didn’t lock the door last night after Ava left. There was no point in continuing to pretend that this room was my safe space. I was never safe and if anything they could have broken my door down. The child in me wished and believed that I was safe in these four walls but the adult I needed to be needed to accept the fact that this room was not my safe space. I neede
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