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Anonymous

Anonymous asked:

I know I'm just some random person on tumblr telling you this, but hear me out. The best thing I ever did was to get away from my unsupportive, abusive parents. I cut them out of my life and never looked back. It was hard, and I scraped by, but I made it and I am a healthier, better, stronger person for doing it. I wish you the best. I know you can make it. My friends are my family now, and my "real" family are just acquaintances at this point.

No you’re right. And I know this. I am so sorry you had to go through this as well because it fucking hurts. Nobody should have to deal with this. My tattoo actually stands for family obligation, but I got it on the arm that’s scarred from cutting as a reminder that I have made my own family who have helped me get through hard times. The family I made, we protect our own at all costs. It’s just hard to make the last cut because my brother is only 3 and my 16 year old sister I won’t be able to really see them anymore. That tears me up. Both of my parents are abusive and my step dad as well. I just want to be wrong so bad because it’s hard to admit that your family wants nothing to do with you. Or rather they want nothing positive to do with you. I shouldn’t be crying in my fiancés arms on the couch in an apartment we can’t afford and feel so incredibly unwanted and unimportant to my “family” but yes. You are right. “The blood of the covenant is thicker than the water of the womb.”

He starts it off, as they always do, by saying,
“I still want to be friends” but I am already
on the next subway, the next taxi, the next whatever.
I am thinking about dinner that night, or the next night:
Angus beef, sauteed chicken, mahi mahi fish tacos.
I am thinking about the coffee pot and runner’s knee
and how much money I have in my savings. I am
thinking about hypothermia and missing bodies;
all the knives in my bed. I am thinking about how
the very word promise sounds more like an undoing.
I am thinking about the easiness of mouths.
How they open. How they give so much but also
about how they take away the things our minds
have committed to that permanent place of the brain,
where memories continue to rattle around long after
we’ve stopped shaking. I am thinking about how
he has turned me into a lake and I’ve never learned
how to swim. I am thinking about how I now have to
unlearn all of his secrets. Become a tourist to his body
again, blink against the hurt. I am thinking about
expensive hair cuts and retail therapy, dressing room
girls who are used to outlandish requests from customers.
I am thinking that this isn’t a dress my mother
would approve of, but honey, I look so good in red.
Kristina Haynes, “The Breakup Sweats” (via fleurishes)

My mother would rather my fiancé and I live in our car than live in her house. I am so incredibly upset right now. Glad my family is so supportive. Especially after she is on marriage number fucking three and has moved back with her mom a lot before grandma passed. But I don’t mean enough for that.

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