I am writing again. Maybe one day I'll post them here. Maybe I won't.

This is all sinking in at different times. I knew it would.

But I am strong. I need to be, and I am. And sometimes, I am amazed by it. I am strong and intelligent. I had forgotten both of those things for awhile.

But now I remember who I am. And I'm back. After months of knowing what was truly going on, I can now sit back and heal. I shone the light on all of it, and now I can heal.

And I am. Because I am strong.

I've lived through my hells. And I will continue to. But I will only get stronger.

Each wound will seep. Then I will itch. But I will start to heal. And those scars will be with me for the rest of my life. But I will look at them and take them for what they are....stepping stones to completing who I need to be.

I am excited to meet the person I am supposed to be. I thought I found her and really liked her. But my journey is far from over.

And each day above ground is a good day. And each day of survival is a testament to my character. I will not lose sight of that.

Yes, Goddess Bless Dorothy Parker

who wrote this poem:

Frustration

If I had a shiny gun
I could have a world of fun
Speeding bullets through the brains
Of the folk who give me pains;

Or I had some poison gas
I could make the moments pass
Bumping off a number of
People whom I do not love

But I have no lethal weapon-
So does Fate our pleasure step on!
So they still are quick and well
Who should be, by rights, in hell.

It's amazing how sleep doesn't come when your heart as been ripped from your chest and shat upon.

But it's also amazing the lengths a whore will go to to protect her whore self. Even after I told her that he didn't deny it, she STILL continued to say, "I don't know what you're talking about Tory." That made me smile.

I don't understand being a whore. Or being a married whore. Who is fucking another married person. I just don't get that mentality. I know some people are born without a shred of human decency or morals, but I don't understand it because I WAS born with them. And even though I am in so much pain right now, I would much rather be in pain than have to live with myself, knowing I broke up a marriage or two.

But then again, people with a soul feel that same way.

I was staying at my friend Melissa's house because my ex had become a stalker and I had to change my routine. In the morning, she called from work. I was still asleep because I worked nights at Misericordia then. She said "New York has been bombed, the Pentagon was hit, they think Chicago is next. They are shutting down the city."

She had no TV, so I was glued to the radio, not knowing what was going on, other than they attacked New York and we were next. I called Christi and woke her up, telling her.

When Melissa came home, we drove to a pizza parlor to eat because they had a TV. We watched over and over again as the buildings fell.

We drove to my apartment, met up with Christi and Neftali, and watched more TV. Those buildings kept falling. Standing, then falling. That man falling out of the window. You could see his tie flipping in the air behind him.

Melissa and I drove to many different hospitals to donate blood, and they all turned us away because there were too many people volunteering.

We bought some beer, got drunk and celebrated what we thought might be our last night alive.

This day, five years ago, lit the fire in me to find out why. Why were we hated? What role did our country have? Our government? Simple hatred of our freedoms made no sense. This day started in me a change.

And five years later, I can sit down with anyone and explain why.