Beaten Down.

         If I could write him a letter right now, I wouldn't - I'd have nothing left to say. The emotion bubbled over in the first week after he said the words. Now I'm just an empty sack, wrinkled and worthless. I questioned it, I did, how could he do this, blah blah blah; But I found the answers in everything that he'd told me before, every little jibe. I was ugly, I was stupid, I was a bitch, I was nasty, was I nasty though? Really? Nothing I could throw back at him would even dent his armour, and pretty early on I stopped trying. But maybe I was all of the other things and that's why I was alone, that's why I always would be alone and that's why the pills tasted so good.