Alicia Larkins
Stories (1/0)
12 Years a Slave
12 years a slave. For 12 years I was married to a bad decision. Someone who I knew from the beginning was a piece of work. A piece of work I thought I could fix. Someone I thought I could love enough, heal enough to bring out the best in him. The best in us! Oh how I was wrong. Almost like a dog returns to their vomit, this man returned to what was always there before he was even gone. I think that’s what hurts the most. I thought I was loved differently. Thought I was seen and loved for who I really am. The whole time I was being cased like a bank. Robbers come in dressed as normal patrons, acting as if they belong, only to find the weakest points so that they can take as much as they can, as quick as they can. Except in my case it wasn’t quick. My chosen husband was probably licking his lips in anticipation on how much he could take from me without actually giving anything.
By Alicia Larkins3 years ago in Confessions