Dear Diary...

While I was on the bus today, I realized that my diary from 2006 was in my bag, so I decided to read thru. It covered 9 months of that year, from January to September.

And you know what the running theme was throughout the pages? I was very unhappy. He was very mean. And I was stressed and sad almost daily over our relationship.

It wasn't a fun read, but it was cathartic.

I read about all the times he was late picking me up, or late coming home. I read about how often he rejected me, and how awful I felt. How he spent more time with other people than with me. How he refused to say "I love you". I read about the many times that I asked him, practically begged him, to give up the goddam video games, for just one nite, and not stay up until the wee hours of the morning, leaving me to sleep alone. And those entries were always followed by 'Well, he did it again.'

He blamed ADD for most of these things. I blame ASS.

The last entry was made on the nite that he hit me. I guess I lost my urge to write after that.