Pieces of Me (Excerpt)

My fingers frantically pounded the keyboard. The louder he talked, the faster my hands moved, an attempt to block out the nastiness that filled my ears. Writing was my coping mechanism, but he knew me too well, and now even that was corrupted. He was envious of anything I had that was just for me.
Married at twenty-one after one child out of wedlock and I still couldn’t believe that this is what my life had become. Twelve years. Twelve years of marriage to a man emotionally stunted by a dysfunctional childhood. We’d recognized that dysfunction in one another and clung to it. Two lonely and scarred children futilely attempting to piece together a semblance of the family neither had ever had but both had always wanted. Constructing a faulty bridge to happiness with no blueprint. Two damaged individuals destroying one another bit by bit.