I was three. I sat inside my room listening to my “dad” drill a hole for a chain lock he was putting on the outside of my door. I remember sitting on the floor, wondering why no one loved me. I thought maybe I could pretend to be a dog. People like dogs. Dogs live
So…you know those neighbors, the one’s that I referenced in my original story? Did I mention that I live in a townhouse? No? Ok, well I do. And I just so happen to share a common wall with them. Cozy, right? Brings new meaning to the term “sleeping with the enemy.” Well anyways, I WAS
There really is no easing into this first post, it is what it is. This blog is about me. It’s about my life. My trials, my failures, my joy, and my heartaches. It’s painful, dirty, and complicated. It’s embarrassing, scary, and torturous. It’s the screams in my nightmares and the cries from my soul. But it’s me.