Friends and family tell me to get over it, my therapist told me....

That it will die with me. It's a short road to figure out who is right. My therapist. I can't remember half the shit I lived through but my dreams can. 5:00am sat up in bed and I could still hear him screaming. It takes me a minute to assess the situation. My dogs are asleep and all the windows are shut. He's not here. I use to hide all the knifes in the house. My thought was if he tries to kill me with a butter knife I have a chance to get away. I never realized I was hiding the sharp ones from myself. I should have killed that mother fucker when I had the chance.