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Death of the Empath

Death of the Empath

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I sent a text to my ex-husband the other day. It had been over a year since we spoke. I wrote him because on the onset of our divorce, I thought he was the most evil man alive and I expected for him to distract me from my current pain by being rude and aloof as he once was. I wanted his old hurt instead of the hurt I felt in this experience. I thought I had went through my deepest sorrow, my deepest shame with him. I thought there was no lower place to go after us. And when he left me disillusioned, bewildered and scorned, I thought like Jesus, I had seen the pits of hell and there was no other place to go but to heaven. But I was so wrong. There is a deeper place than hell, a place so vile that all the demons have your face there. And as it plucks away from the good sense you once had, you become trapped in a perpetual state of fear. The irony is this book was once called “Fearless”. Today it’s been renamed, “The Death of an Empath”. This book will be done in 3 days and will hopefully pay for the security alarm system or new home that I now need to stay safe from the fear I face. The Bible says “forget not those in prison”. My cell has been nothing more than the membranes in mind, leading me in the path of sin, sitting me beside rough waters. Well now I’m ready for restoration. Complete restoration. 
Oh, what did my ex-husband say? 
Him: “Who is this?”

Me: “Me.”

Him: “HRU?”

Me: “I’m good if you are.” 

Him: “I’m wonderful.”

Me: “You use to be the best listener.”

Him: “I still am.”

Me: “Listen then.”

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