“I don’t trust you.”

You say those words to me every single time we speak these days. I can’t help but find that amusing. YOU can’t trust ME?

When you held me, suspended off of the ground by my throat, my only thought a desperate prayer that my child wouldn’t see my dead body on the ground, I trusted you when you said it wouldn’t happen again.

When, years later, you begged me not to leave for 6 months, and promised you wouldn’t call me the horrible, nasty things you called me anymore, I trusted you. When, at the end of those 6 months, I was 3 months pregnant with our fourth child, you swore life would be better. I trusted you.

Later still, after knowing how unsatisfied you were with my weight, and my appearance, I lost 100 lbs. I felt confidence I never experienced before. When you told me I could lose 100 more pounds and it wouldn’t matter “because you can’t lose ugly” I trusted you.

After years of sobriety, when you started drinking again, and I again lived through the physical abuse that comes with your drunken anger, I held to the promise you made to me, that our family would always come first. We lost our home, because you would rather drink than pay bills, and still, I trusted you.

Finally, after years of ignoring bruises and hurtful comments, you told me you hadn’t loved me in years. I had worked my absolute hardest to be a good wife, and you told me that my best wasn’t good enough. I trusted you.

I know that I have done some things that seem unlike anything I would ever do. I know that I hurt you, and that you are confused by my actions. I am truly sorry that I hurt you, I really am. I don’t even try to use your past actions and behavior to justify myself, because I am not about making excuses. I don’t expect you to understand me, I don’t ask you to like me, but you don’t TRUST me? I’m sorry, you have one Hell of a nerve!

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