Every bond is special
when you become someone’s daughter, granddaughter, sister, niece, son, grandson, brother, nephew and many more relationships that never end which all lead to be someone’s wife or husband.
When the time comes, the smiles, the sweets, never ending functions and so on until the wedding.
Oh the wedding…
“Smile!” camera click “bride and groom, let’s pose just like that” camera click “beautiful couple right?”
She has the house, the husband, and everything in between… she also got the sorrys and heard it all… the lies, the pushes, the repeats of the same action.
She has the house.. But not the husband…
She stayed and the abuse continued and then there were three.
The door opened… she stayed again, and from then on… sleepless nights, longer days, and the screams got louder.
This time the door finally opened wider and when you call upon him once, he protects, guards and provides in such ways you never knew you were capable of so.
and then freedom lays upon the hands that led to the one who holds justice…
She has a home, but not the husband…
because trauma bonding almost gave the graveyard another guest.
Brown Ink Stories 