Don’t worry, all is well. All is so perfectly, damnably well.
You ever touch me again, I’ll kill you.
I wish… I wanna be able to pick up my baby. I wanna be able to take her upstairs and read her a book. At nap time, I wanna be able to not eat this crappy food that’s making me feel yucky, that’s supposed to be healthy for me. And I want my mom- I want my own mom to consider me important enough to get on a plane and come here to see me. And I know I sound like I’m complaining right now, but I just sometimes wish that things were back to normal. And that I could just curl up in a ball and cry over it, but I can’t because.. because your mother’s here.
It is not the violence that sets men apart; it is the distance he’s prepared to go.