I feel safe, he's not home, he is like a drunk father - you can never get anything right through his eyes and he could be happy or mad at anytime. I have innumerable bruises from him. He is one reason why I've bled premeditatedly. I hate to admit it, confess of him. My heart always feels opaque whenever I see him. I love him yet...I pray for him yet...I can't quietly leave him or discontinue my care for him. No matter how much I detest that man, I can not stop from feeling for him when something happens to him. My eyes blink wateriness back. Nothing ever can stop it. Sometimes I long for it all to be over. That, or maybe to cease a moment and crack his head open with it. To see his blood on my hand, to even imagine it...it invigorates my veins. No, I can't hurt him. The only one I can hurt is myself.