Needing to stand firm

Yesterday I posted a poem that I entitled Brave.  Little did I know just how Brave I was going to need to be yesterday.

He contacted me…. demanding of me… said many hurtful things. He ripped old scars open. He tried emotional manipulations. He tried to hurt me. Then called me the martyr when I said that I was tired of hurting.  I would remember the good and I’d always care for him.  He went on and on.

But I stood firm.  I stood Brave.

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