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Thursday, March 27, 2008

- What's Your Choice ...


- broken, beaten; she fell into my arms. I chose to love. Put to the test; my conscious screamed with rage. I could visibly see the blood running, bodies broken, beaten, all by my hand. At 6'4" and 225lbs, it's not so unbelievable. Certainly, anger, and revenge are justified. I chose to love. Each time the door closed and I found myself left to my thoughts, my only recourse was to ensure our children held out love first. Respect and understanding must win the day. Every moment spent staring at the back of a head; I chose to love.

How can I live with myself, am I a pussy whipped, welcome mat!? Who would stand, and allow this in their home? Who could possibly, look into those eyes knowing the betrayal of trust, the deliberate choice to be spiteful and cutting? How do you define "Faithful"? I chose to love. Each time my heart broke a little more; I chose to love. Every moment spent with empty arms; I chose to love. Each night spent in an empty bed; I chose to love. Every time our children shed tears in my lap; I chose to love. Every meal shared, less one at the dinner table; I chose to love. With every false accusation, all the miss placed anger, and hateful glances sent my way; I chose to love.

- broken, beaten; she fell into my arms. I chose to love.


- It's good to be back ... Love, S.

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