I waited, knowing it would come. Maybe in a minute, maybe in several hours. It always came. I had to be there to make sure it wasn’t worse. When I didn’t wait. When I wasn’t there it was always worse. I prayed for an end. I dreamed of one. It didn’t end until I made it end. It was dangerous and terrifying. It was necessary.
I’m waiting again. Its not so bad this time, at least not on the surface. It comes in different ways. It wears a different mask. It tells a different lie. Its bad enough that it must end. I’m waiting for the right time. I’m terrified. It won’t end until I make it end. I dont know how this time…
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