A Mom, Wife, Sister, Daughter & Woman…Overcoming Domestic Abuse With God

I miss the way I felt when he pretended to be a good person.

I miss the power of true love I generated.

I miss the sense of freedom, hope and happiness I had thanks to following his false facade.

I miss the thoughts that my dreams had finally come true.

I miss the moments when I felt proud of myself and powerful.

I miss dreaming about all the wonderful things which he COULD do for me if he wanted.

I miss the moments I felt loved, beautiful, special and unique.

I miss the days of thinking that this was REAL.

I miss the period of life when I didn’t have to live in fear for my safety.

I miss feeling happy, sharing kisses and “butterflies” in my stomach.

I don’t really miss him.  I miss all the best things about me.

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