I wrote this years ago i felt some people could relate but yeah..... i throught I'd bring it back to life

This is about a young girl who grew up to relive her past. The pain and loss she felt as a child, she would feel again—but how…

As a young child, at the age of five, she had a father she adored and loved—the first man she would ever love. She looked up to him. Little did the young child know about daddy’s little habits. She didn’t understand why he came home angry at Mommy. She asked herself, “Why does Daddy hit Mommy?” But she never got an answer, as she was too young to know. But one day, she would grow to know.

The young girl starts to notice Daddy comes home less and less, but her love does not change for her father.

One day, she heard her Mommy and Daddy fighting. As she walks closer to the room, her father goes storming by. She is confused. She looks at her mother, who is now crying, with a look of such pain—the same look the young girl will have many years later.

As her mother picks her up, the child gets a bad feeling. She starts to cry along with her mother. As the child reaches out to her father, begging him not to leave, the father looks at them and walks away.

Days, weeks, and months pass by. Mommy becomes ever so sad as the heartbreak sets in. The young girl has now become sick. She has stopped eating and feels lost as she cries for her father. She asks, “Mommy, where is Daddy?”

Her mother’s heart rips in two as she tries to answer this question without hurting her child.

“He has left, sweetie.”

“He couldn’t stay with us—the way he is.”

Then one day, the mother takes the small girl to the doctor. The mother calls the father, begging him to meet her there. The weather seems to match her sadness.

As they get to the doctor, the child sees her father. She runs to him, tears of joy streaming from her eyes as he picks her up. They hug. The small child asks her father, “Daddy, please don’t go away again. PLEASE.” She begs and begs.

As this is happening, the small child doesn’t seem to see her mother cry—as her mother’s heart is just as broken, if not more. For years and years, she too loved him unconditionally. She hides the pain and turns to wipe her tears away, waiting for the day she can look at this man and no longer feel love, anger, or sadness—but feel no emotion at all.

After the doctor’s visit, the father agrees to come home. The mother tells the father, “You have to stop. You can’t keep using and stay with us.”

“You don’t only hurt me—you hurt your child as well.”

The father agrees to change and stop.

That night, he comes home. He has one small bag packed on the floor. The mother notices. She knows it won’t last, but the young girl seems so happy and doesn’t care, as she doesn’t understand the whole concept.

As they tuck the small child in and kiss her goodnight, the child feels happy, as if life is back to being right. She drifts into a peaceful and content sleep—only to wake up to him gone.

The mother knew that night he was going to leave and never be the same. (His habit had won him over.) Both are filled with sadness and pain. That night, they cried so much the child couldn’t believe it—but this time, it seemed to be easier.

After that night, they pick up the pieces and slowly move on.

The mother stands at the back door, looking out the diamond-shaped window. In that moment, the mother finally lets him go. Tears run down her face as she stares out the window. She has held on far too long.

Years pass. The young girl has now become a woman—a beautiful, strong woman, like her mother. She learned, as she got older, why her father had walked out and chosen drugs.

One day, the girl, now a woman, meets a man and falls deeply in love. She wasn’t so giving with her heart, but with this one, she gave him her all. But little did she know her past would revisit her.

The man she loved and married had a habit as well—one she didn’t know about until it was too late. As tears came more and more because of this “small habit,” she had seen this road before. She knew the outcome.

She begged and pleaded with her husband to stop, only to hear empty promises. But over and over, he chose the drugs.

“…I guess I’ll just stick to what I’m already doing—it’s working so well.”

She felt as if she were in a nightmare. The man who made her feel alive, like she could do anything—the same man who said he would never hurt her.

She screamed, “LIES. IT WAS ALL LIES—ALL OF IT!”

That night, she sat on the bed and simply asked him, “Either you choose your drug, or you choose me.”

He stared blindly at her. He thought to himself, “Another bluff.”

Later that night, he went to get high.

That night, as she walked out the door—to never return—the pain hit her. Unbearable.

As she drove away, “Angel” by Sarah McLachlan came on the radio. She started to cry. She couldn’t stop.

Who knew…

The memories haunted her, as once again she was back to that day many years ago.

For once again…

Drugs had won....