Now that I’m dead, I want to tell you a few things.

To My Sons:
I wish I would have never said I needed help to get away from your father. I wish I just would have dealt with it and left on my own time. You were told lies about me and were told you couldn’t talk about me. I am gone now and I am watching over you and protecting you from those who took you from me. I missed you with every breath I took. You will never know how much I tried to bring you back home and how hard it was when I was told I could never see you again. No matter what any one tells you, I never gave up on bringing you home, even when I took my last breath.

To the one who brought me into this world:
You are one messed up person. I am glad that I don’t have to be alive knowing you always hated me. You abused me in ways no child should have ever gone through. You let your own son beat me until I stopped breathing a few times and you laughed. You put your second husband above your own children and let him touch me in ways no step-father should ever do. You believed him over your own child. I hope your death is as painful as all the hell you put me through. The only reason there is ANY love in my heart is because without you, I would have never had a life.