March of 2017

It’s another fight, another scream fest, another smack across the face, another Tuesday isnt it? Right now you feel defeated, worthless, like your spirit has dimmed to this little nothing. I see you look in that mirror, staring at what’s become of you, what became of the two of you. You think it’s your fault, all on you. That’s what you get told every time it happens, and it’s been happening more and more frequently this past year, 2017.

What you won’t tell people is that right now your thinking of ending it, your life, if you call this a life. You’ve tried it before, but now you are thinking that you are absolutely ready. You selfishly think no one loves you, you haven’t really talked to your friends or family, perhaps they don’t really care after all, that’s what HE has told you. You want to get away from it all, the pain, humiliation, sadness, anger…him.

But you didn’t do it after all. You splash cold water on your face, think how utterly over dramatic you are, how stupid and silly. I see you walking down the staires to apologize for the umpteenth time this week to him, you say you will try better, try to be a better wife, try and do what he demands. You exclaim that He is your number one priority to make happy and Gosh darnnit, you will make this work…..(whispering) although you do know that a week from now you will be hit again, or put in a choke hold…but you will survive, as always.

May 2017

What you remember most is the smell right? The smell if his spit on your face, in your hair. You think what a hot mess this all is.

I see you in the mirror, you’re looking at yourself with disgust. This was a violent act, without him hitting you. He did everything a true domestic abusive husband would do. He cornered you, pushed you onto the bed, grabbed your face and then menacingly whispered to you that you are to call yourself ” A stupid Bitch” , you feel defeated again, you weren’t strong enough to defy him, you gave in, you called yourself those names, then in a final act of violence he says I know you are and SPITS in your face. As you look in the mirror and wash his spit off of you, you think what kind of coward you are, to stay in this marriage, what’s wrong with me, you think. I see you clean yourself up and then go downstaires to apologize and beg for forgiveness.

August of 2017

It stings, it must sting, your bleeding, you look at your phone and immediately photograph the split lip “For evidence” is what you think. Your arm too is pretty much hurting, he pulled you in so forcefully and then threw you against the stove. What you didnt tell people is that you got a text message from HIM saying “dont come home, cause I dont know what I’ll do to you” you tell everyone that you didnt see the text message until it was too late, but in reality you did see it as you were walking home from work. You laughed and thought how very fucking dramatic is he, as if he’ll “Do” anything to me. But boy did he ever eh. You regret coming home, should’ve accepted the offer of staying a few extra hours at work. Maybe his rage would have simmered down.

I see you upstairs looking in the mirror, praying beyond anything that there isnt that quintessential “Domestic violence Split Lip Scar” Your thinking that people will see, people at work will see, they might say something about it. You dont even really remember what got him so angry at you, although over the last year it seems that he will go off over any little thing. He keeps telling you to respect him, make him number one. He also says maybe if you stop bitching and crying he would make love to you more often. Although between you and me, you’re kinda glad he doesn’t have sex as often, you’ve noticed him getting more rougher then usual, so you’re all good in that department. You’ve stopped praying and hoping for a baby too, thats long gone, you dont want babies with this man, no one should. I see you wipe away the blood, take another look at it, wince and then go downstaires. You apologize for your behaviour, he is right you are selfish, a bitch, barren. You tell him that you can’t imagine life without him and want to make it work, want this marriage to last forever, so you will change. You will accept that he is always right. You then start making dinner for you both, all is forgiven he says. As you go get the appliances from up top, your arm hurts like hell, you hope it’s not permanent.

December of 2017

You’re thinking ” What the actual fuck just happened” two hours of him screaming at you, while driving home from visiting your family, your mother in the hospital. Two long, stressful hours of him screaming, no not screaming but a guttural screeching at you, about him being sick of everything, about him hating himself, about how you dont do the one thing he wants to him, how you are inadequate as a wife, how selfish you are. How his needs come last. He basically calls you everything under the sun. He then starts screeching at you about that damn penis pump, you’re so sick of hearing about it. He’s so odd about it, you think how a grown “man” can act the way he does, he’s basically gone insane about it, saying how he craves it, needs more of it, nothing else matters but that pump.

I see you in the mirror after the truck ride from hell as you call it. Your heart is still racing, gotta slow it down. He tried to kill you both tonight. You won’t tell anyone that of course. But let’s face it, that’s exactly what he tried to do. The look in your eyes, they are frightened. You look at your hands, the knuckles still have a bit of whiteness in them, they kinda hurt eh, you were “White knuckling” the whole time in the truck ride from hell. Twice he revved up the truck as you were going over bridges. As you look in the mirror, hot, angry tears coming down your face you think “something has to give” , this isnt a life, what he’s doing isnt love, this marriage is done. You shamefully look up and think ” I dont even love him anymore” you wipe away the tears, grab a drink of water. Then you grap the pump and go downstaires, you’re gonna try and entice him, calm him down, say and do exactly what he says but convince him that you want it like he does, more even, convince him that you want to want to do it to him, make him happy.

Beginning of January 2018

You’re starring at him. He’s looking at you through the mirror, his look as akin to a ragged beast, he’s hunched over, sweaty. He keeps staring, you wonder if he’s thinking of the fight that just happened, how he didnt expect you to start swinging back at him, maybe he’s pissed at the rip in his shirt. Your starring back at him through the mirror, wondering what now. You see his eyes become dark, he then look at you and says ” I’m going to kill you, you know that right” I see you shocked, heartbroken, scared. You’re thinking of all those “movie of the week moments” where the man says that to the woman, a few months later, she’s dead, I know Nicole Brown Simpson is going through your thoughts too, she must have heard that right before she was murdered. You’re next runs through your head, it’s only a matter of time, days even. You make amends with him, you tell him that it was all your fault, it won’t happen again.

January 11, 2018

One final look in the mirror, this is it, the marriage is done, the husband is in jail, bridge crossed and burned. The worst fight happened, theres a shiner beginning to form on your cheek.

I see you looking in that mirror, tears streaming down, heart racing, trying to weed through the real and surreal. What do you do now. I know you hear a whisper, a tiny little voice. It says ever so lightly…”run, run and don’t look back” you know this is what you need to do, this is your out, how you get your freedom. But I see you looking at yourself thinking how impossible it will be to start over. You can’t leave. I know that tiny voice starts to become more vocal, this voice that was once dimmed to nothing, she’s coming back, she is saying ” If you cant leave for you, then please think of your future, think of her, what will become of her. Save her.” The voice you thought was dimmed, you thought you lost forever, she came back. She’s angry and hurt, but has more courage and heart then ever. I see you look in the mirror, you’re looking at me, looking at your future. You want to save your future, save me. I see you take one more look in the mirror, say goodbye and turn off the light and walk away. You saved me, you took all the strength and courage and made that giant leap. You never looked back.

I see you, and I thank you.