you ask me how much I love you. I answer the same thing every time: "as big as the whole entire universe." but repetition gets boring and meaningless.

you haven't realized that I stopped loving you six years ago, when you began to prioritize another person. the man who puts you in pain. physically, mentally, and emotionally. the man who makes you scream until you lose your voice. the man who is the root of your ptsd and panic attacks. what makes him the top of your priority list, and not your own daughter?

I always wonder how much love you have for me. maybe it's time that I ask.