The Merc A Reason To Kill

How often do we look in the mirror and remember the dreamy child we once were? And how much courage do we have to look deep into our own eyes and forgive ourselves for the wrong choices that have hurt us so much, or for everything we have allowed to be done to us for so many years?

Nothing last forever... neither the joys, nor the sorrows, anguish and pain.

The reflection before my eyes makes tears well up and slide down my face, while I feel my chest tighten as if I could suffocate at any moment.

A woman who is no more than a shadow of the dreamy, impeccable girl she once was, who feels capable of flying higher and higher, but who at the same time feels trapped, tied to her husband, because she is too attached to principles that no longer make any sense after everything she has been through.

Deep in my soul, I hear that little girl screaming, "What did you do to me? Why?"

Realizing that everything I believed to be true was nothing but a meticulous trap I allowed myself to fall into, hurts... sucking all my strength every day I spend in this situation, unable to take any action and move on.

I have discovered that my wonderful "Disney princess" castle is nothing more than a gilded cage, and that I am nothing more than a trophy that the "prince" boasts of being the only one to possess.

He fills his mouth to talk about me to others, praising and extolling my qualities to anyone who will listen to the wonders he makes a point of telling, extolling the "woman of his life," to whom, within the privacy of the walls of our home, he does not direct affection and recognition. I have given into his hands every dream, every day of my life for years, but I have never had any of those dreams cherished. I am no more than the wife whom he judges, ridicules and belittles.

It is hard to look back and forgive myself for so much pain, for having allowed someone to tear and fragment my soul into so many pieces, and to forgive myself after remaining for so long steeped in a deep illusion that he would one day be the man I dreamed of so much.

"He will change! Of course he will! After all, he loves me! He promised!"

How many times have I repeated each of these phrases to myself, trying to justify the masochism of submitting myself to an endless wait for something that never happened and never will happen.