I know you say you forgive me for slapping you. I know you say we’ll be okay. I know you almost r@ped me that night before. We were both in the wrong. I love you and you are the world to me. I know I’m the world to you and you couldn’t tell the difference between real life and ptsd that night. I forgive you for that but I’m still scared sometimes. I don’t forgive myself for that next day when we fought. Screaming at you hurt me to my core. I hated every single second of it. I hated that I had to drag my dad into the equation to make you come to your senses. I didn’t want to lose you to suicide. I know I’m healing myself from my abuse and I want you to know I never wanted to abuse you the way I was. I love you. I hurt you. You love me. You hurt me. I feel you flinch every time I touch you. I feel you flinch when I touch your cheek. I never meant for this to happen. I hate being the reason you’re flinching again. You were doing so good when we moved in together. You had learned love isn’t painful from me but I started hurting you. I hurt you emotionally, verbally and now, physically… I loathe myself for it. I /hate/ myself for it. You are my husband and I’m your wife. I never ever want to be the reason you flinch again. I want you to learn that love isn’t supposed to hurt again. I’m sorry.