The Bad Nights

I wonder why I love him so much, and why I continue to take his abuse.  I've lost my mother and my sister over him.  Why do I feel sorry for him?

Some nights were bad.... very bad.  If he was really drunk, he would get my mom and us girls out of bed... it didn't matter that my mom had to work the next day, or that my sister and I had to be up for school.  We had to endure it.  For hours.  He would sit in his recliner, drunk into oblivion, and verbally abuse us while my sister and I sat on the couch and my mother stood nearby.  She couldn't do anything but stand there.  I felt her pain for us girls, but she couldn't do anything.... his wrath was something we didn't want to see.  Just shut up and endure.  Trauma.  My sister and I were called bitches and whores.  He would say my sister and I would end up nothing but a whore "just like our mother".  We were always told we would grow up to be worthless nothings.  We cried in front of him, but he didn't care.  He'd get mad and call us weak for crying. 

So why do I love him so much?  Why have I let my relationship with my own sister and mother go over him?