⟳ Репост от quinoa joaquin
When I was small, my father held a knife to my mom’s throat as I screamed and scratched at his legs. Later she made dinner, because refusing to do so would have been worse. That was a few days before we left in the night, her bleeding, me silent. It was the worst night of my life. And the best.
The BulwarkRep. Max Miller: "My former wife has claimed that during a custody exchange at my home that day, I assaulted her…If I had assaulted her, would she have offered to cook me dinner six days later?"