Right in the midst of things I think of you, and I think of how you stole a part of me that I can never get back. I think of the deliberate acts of evil and the sadness you left in me. I think of how I wish I knew how to forget, how to block every memory of you. I wish you didn’t have two faces, one you showed everyone else and the one I saw. I think of all the times that I never felt safe, you took away that part of me. I think of how small and innocent I was when you began your reign of terror. I think of the feeling it gave me when I’d see you come in a room when there was no one there to help me. I think of the torment of having to live under the same roof as you. I think of how you manipulated situations just to hurt me. I think of how you changed everything about love that I thought I knew. I think about how I buried myself in so many ways trying to escape. I think of the pain of knowing, you gave me life, but then ripped it away. I think of how I ran, how I tried to end my life at eleven years old. I think of the drinking and the drugs and the tears and the emptiness I lived with for too many years. I think of feeling out of control. I think of the times you said I love you and I hated you. I think of all the things I almost did, should have done to hurt you back. I think of how long it took me to see you for the monster you are instead of carrying that shame and blame that I grew to know so well. I think of the day I made peace with myself. I think of the last day I saw your face, and how thankful I am that I’ll never see it again. I think of the father I have now. I think of how I love being his daughter. I think of the hugs that were and are genuine. I think of the talks, and the walks, and the life he poured back into a broken little girl. I think of how blessed I am to be free of your abuse. I think of the years he has stood by me. I think of the times he has held me, like a daughter, and made it okay to let it all go. I think of how fortunate I was to be able to break ties with you and create them with him. I think of the births of my daughters. I think of the love I showed them. I think of the beautiful times we’ve shared. I think of him as their “only” grandfather. I think of the days my babies would follow him around “helping” with the chores he always did, how he played with them. I think of these days and all the nights and the months and the years that have passed, and I think of you…how pathetic, how sinful, how tormented, how perverse, how sick, and I wake up every morning thanking God…that I “don’t” have to think of you anymore.