Dear Harry,
The fights are coming back to me. The exchanging of harsh words, the threats of physical violence, how scared we both were in the moment. I wish I could take it all back.
Trust, love, everything we had built together through the harsh months. All torn apart by foolish, angry words. The spitting of vile insults, the damaging of our once beautiful relationship...
I didn't mean them, Harry. I didn't mean them.
I stared at the last line my fingers typed in a sorrowful rage. There my confession stood in permanent black letters. For I was nothing but a scared girl who took the anger and sadness built deep inside for years out on the only man who would ever love me. And he didn't know that the awful words that slipped off my tongue were never for him. They were for myself.
I cupped my hand around the coffee mug and took brief sips to warm the bitterness inside of me. But even the steaming black liquid could not warm the coldness I felt each night, lying in bed alone.