• Love is having someone comfort you at your darkest hour, when you're looking at the icy water below and wanting to take the plunge. The one person to pull you back from darting across the street, hoping an 18-wheeler turns you into highway pavement caked in red.

    It is not abandoning your own child when they are suffering under the abuse of your spouse. It is not berating your own spouse in front of your own child. It is not ignoring your own child's cry when they need you.

    All my life, I have always thought that love was abuse and neglect. Pain and suffering. For 14+ years, I have experienced it firsthand. Mom would kick 'dad' out, only to have him return a few days later, claiming everything was going to be better. This was not true. Counselors have not helped one bit and here I am.

    Dark eyes that hold stories of abuse and hatred.
    Scars from the pain and trauma.

    My only hope is to escape soon and never see that rat b*****d out. May cannot come soon enough. What if I actually decide to go over the bridge and eventually end my life? What is she to do then? She has to end this.

    I regret that it took an attempted suicide and a transgender woman to hopefully snap her to reality. I have since told my cousin that she can tell her mother as well.

    Come May, I hope I am still in a relationship with the woman who hopefully saved me from the brink of Death's cold grip. No, it is not my mother.

    Sadly, it is the girlfriend who cares more for my safety and well being than the person who gave me life.

    Mom, please do something. Before I really attempt taking my life.