You are broken.
Mentally, you are broken. You cause more problems than you solve. You do more harm than good. You cannot comprehend that you have more than you deserve. You can't seem to understand what needs to be done to make this right. You don't seem to think that you are the problem. Not just part of the problem, the WHOLE problem.
Emotionally, you are broken. You don't care about life, but then, why should you? What is there for you in life? Nothing. Not a damn thing. Why? Because you don't deserve anything. You only hurt the people around you, simply by being you. Like a disease that won't go away. You infect people and hurt them, slowly breaking them down and making them nothing. You are bad for people, especially those you love. You hurt them the worst. Without even trying. That's why none of your relationships ever work out. That's why your kids hate you.
Physically, you are broken. Fat, lazy, stupid. Absolutely pathetic. Totally worthless. Ugly, unkempt, ragged. A waste of human life. A waste of space, a waste of resources. You are not worth the air you breath. Wasted. All of it. On you. And what for? Nothing.
Your feelings mean nothing, so don't bother voicing them. They will not be acknowledged. They are not worth acknowledging. Whatever you have to say doesn't matter because you don't have anything worth saying. Not that it would even make sense anyway. It's hard to find a solution when you don't even know what the problem is. Oh, that's right, it's you. Always has been, always will be.
Maybe you should just learn to keep your head down and your mouth shut. That would fix part of the problem. Until you can do that, you are a lost cause. You can argue that you have a right to be heard, a right to voice your opinions, a right to defend yourself, but you don't. Why do you even bother trying? Oh? What was that? Pride? Hahahaha! You have pride? Bullshit! What right do you have to be proud of anything! Absolutely none. So swallow your pride and do as your told, because you have no need of it. No reason for it at all.
As these thoughts run through my head, I think of his arm, of his tattoo. He was going to put my name in it. Mine and the kids. He changed his mind at the last minute. He said he wanted to wait to make sure I still wanted him when he got here, so he put his family there for now, saying he would add us to it. He sent pictures of it as soon as it was done. It was beautiful, even more so when the redness and swelling faded. A true work of art.
I'm glad he changed his mind. When I look at it, I can picture, vaguely, where my name might be. Where it might have a place within the family he loves and cherishes so much. Through thick and thin, through every disagreement, through every fight. I look at it and I'm glad he didn't permanently scar himself with my name. I don't deserve to be there. I will never deserve hold such a place, on his arm, or in his heart....
Next: The Confession