Fighting for Freedom

He'd beaten me TO DEATH. For years, I'd been taking it, accepting the beatings, silently believing the worthlessness he saw in me. I'd obeyed his rules, I'd catered to his whims. I woke up in a hospital bed. Bruised, broken, in shock. That was The Moment. In that moment, I knew that I had to get out. I loved my husband. I missed him. But I needed more than he would ever offer. I deserved more than I'd been given, more than flying fists and fragile tempers. I deserved to wear what I chose. I deserved to go where I wanted. I deserved goodnight kisses. I deserved gentle touches. I deserved to feel LOVED, and not POSSESSED. I deserve to FIGHT for my FREEDOM.