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.