Rookie Writer

Illuminating details from the depths of my memory

[anunfortunatebackstory]

The book creation process will not work with the wiring of my brain. I see every day items and it reminds me of a horrible act or quote that rolled off your tongue. I’m unable to write start to finish. I will write as I explore the depths of your abuse still lingering in my soul. I look forward to telling my story in an anonymous context.

[anunfortunatebackstory]

Tuesday December 9th Part 2

Oh god. I am really writing this. I am sitting in the bed we shared in the house I now hate. I’ve learned to call it my house now instead of “our” but it still feels cursed by you. 

I can’t sell because I’m only twenty four and still owe one hundred and thirty grand on this 1850s colonial home. Some days I wish I could sell every piece of furniture you touched. Other days I want to burn it all in hopes that any of your dead skin cells never grace my presence again. 

I’m sure you are wondering how a twenty four year old ended up buying a house. You are also wondering why I have so much hatred towards it. You may even think I am ungrateful. All valid feelings to be honest. 

If it wasn’t for him maybe things would be different. Maybe I would love the way the sun makes the old oak window trim glimmer a warm golden orange. Maybe I would love watching our dogs play outside in the fenced in yard they deserved.

This first part of the story is hard. Writing it now makes me wonder if any of it was real. Makes me wonder what was genuine or what was manipulation. Wish me luck as I try my best to write.

[anunfortunatebackstory]

Tuesday December 9th 2025

Two months since I’ve wrote. Currently experiencing a false sense of grip on my own trauma. I claim I’m over it. That I’ve healed. That’s not the truth. Though what is “healed”?

Is healed when you no longer think of your abuser? Is healed when his words no longer linger in your head?

Can the thoughts of an abuser and his words coexist with the word healed?

Something to explore

[anunfortunatebackstory]

September 4th 2025

I woke up on a cold January morning. My weekend morning routine took place. Pulled the curtains so the sun would shine on the honey oak trim. The dogs ran outside to frolic in the snow. Made blueberry muffin coffee and enjoyed an asiago bagel. The morning felt ordinary.

We looked at engagement rings last week. I found a solitaire diamond in a gold setting. A timeless choice for an old soul like me.

He came downstairs. Avoiding eye contact but not out of the ordinary for him. Without eating breakfast or grabbing coffee he left. Said he would visit his mother today and I could not tag along. I found it strange.

Hours later he arrived home. Only for a short amount of time. He then told me he would visit his brother. Gone for hours once again.

I bought myself flowers and sushi at the grocery store. I figured I would dine alone tonight. May as well make it romantic, right?

After enjoying my quaint dinner I headed for bed. The cold dark winter days make it hard to stay awake.

He arrived home whilst I slept.

The next morning he sat in the bed and told me he wasn’t happy. That he would stay at his mother’s rental. I was not to talk to him. He told me he would still pay the bills. He was unsure if he would return.

How does one go from selecting engagement rings to separating in a moments notice?

I will answer that question in my next writing session. Writing this story exhausts me. However, exploring the details of his actions aid my understanding of the trauma he caused within me.

[anunfortunatebackstory]

September 3rd 2025

I’m sitting in a wicker chair on the enclosed front porch watching the rain pour. I want to smoke a cigar. Feelings of bitterness and regret often sweep me away.

He convinced me to buy a home for “us” when I was twenty three. His father was facing homelessness and their room mate a drug addicted felon. I pulled all the strings to land us an old farmhouse.

I never thought the four exterior walls of that farmhouse could house such horrid memories of you.

I am in debt. Fixing up a farm house. He was unfaithful and owes no debt.

I feel lighter after notating this.