Sometimes I miss the abusive men in my life.
It's like the difference between having a bouquet of flowers and a broken heart... Or just a broken heart.
I miss having a sweet-faced boy sing to me, even if he assaulted me.
I miss being told I'm beautiful by the farmer's son even if he forced blow jobs on me through tears.
I miss coffee and books in the park with the boy who made me search for him in a nightgown in a snowstorm.
I miss the sweet dreams because even if they were just dreams, all I have now is nightmares.