Everyone's a useless backstabber. Somehow we went from happily engaged to broken up to on a break and I can't get a straight answer anyway. They try to whisper about me in the other room, assuming that my hearing impairment gives them carte blanche to talk about me behind my back. Newsflash kids, I have lived a dangerous life and having my one working ear be able to pick up even the slightest whispers is how I didn't die by now. I hear what they say, I know what they think. Nobody cares that I'm still not over the miscarriage, or that I'm losing sleep because I've been forcibly moved into a *%^&ing basement, of which I am mortally terrified. And apparently my anxieties can just be "gotten over" by "growing up". I'm sorry, I'm pretty sure I grew up a long time ago, between the domestic servitude, raising my younger sibling, holding a job illegally in elementary and middle school, and the constant sexual assaults, abuse and being "leaned on" by people who should have known better have made quite the adult of me. And now, the person I trusted and loved above all others, the one who made my life so much better, has lost his mind and is just leaving me here with nothing but some "hope" for reconciliation and a lot of lies, gossip and confusion. Some think I shouldn't forgive him, some think I'm being weak. Sorry, but when you've been through hell and you finally find someone who looks past it all and then even they let you down, it gets old. Now I just think of all the ways I could do it. <Mod Edit, WildCherry: Methods> I don't even know if I want to be helped. I don't want pity, I don't want false hope, I just want to fade to black, just like in the old days when I died inside and hid behind a stone face. Maybe this time the stone needs to be a gravestone.