What would he call me if he knew all the tiny dirty details of my past?

Tears break loose and pour down my cheeks, my heart aching even though it’s for a dumb reason. I hate him. I never want him to touch me again, yet hearing him call me that hurts. I didn’t choose that path. I had to live with the hand I was dealt and survive while doing it. He has no idea what kind of strength and grit that takes. He has no idea what sort of depravity and shit I have endured. I was only a child, ...