It’s unfortunate, because there isn’t anything I can do about it. No one I can call. No solution I can make up. It’s miserable.
He saw me pulling into work a week or two ago, and that’s when it started. Since then he’s been driving by constantly. Just the sound of his truck makes my skin crawl.
It makes me so angry. He did this before when I would hang out with my friends. He saw me driving to her house one night and decided to follow me there. From then on, he would drive by her house constantly. I finally stopped going over so much.
I kind of just wish he would die. I know that’s terrible— but this man has beaten me more times than I can count. And he has now stalked me well into my adult life. Why is this ok?
My boyfriend chastised me for feeling that way. He doesn’t understand. He doesn’t get the feeling of completely reverting to childhood when I hear my fathers truck. He doesn’t understand the childlike terror in my heart. He doesn’t get it.
I hate this stupid week, this stupid life. I wish I could disappear. Dissolve into nothingness.