I watch Bob, my "loving" husband, get on the bus to go to his new job as a frontline war reporter.
And as I watch the bus pull away, I feel an overwhelming sense of relief.
I am free. I have freedom.
You see, no matter what some people think, Bob is anything but a loving husband.
Cruel and abusive, yes, but not loving.
Some wives get flowers and chocolates, I get put-down's and beaten black and blue.
But now he is away, and I can be free.
I know that I should leave but he always pull's me down and makes me feel worthless and keen to remind me that nobody would want me. How I am lucky to have him.
Lucky? oh yes, I am very lucky to have a husband that treat's me like a servant.
I see other women who are loved and adored by their husband's and I feel jealous.
But now I am free for as long as Bob is away and I can do what I like.
I have my friend's at the W.I to help me.
And I have my freedom. And I am going to cherish every minute of it.
