muse:
he hit me again. my cheek is bruised horribly, i don't even want to look at myself in the mirror. i can't cry about it--he'll hit me again. but i know that he loves me, that's enough, right? even though i know that everything else that he says is a lie, he still loves me.
everything was okay, i swear. just about up 'till last week. he had been all high-and-mighty, and i decided to try and talk him down from his pedestal. bad idea. that was the most frightened i'd ever been during a shouting match. the angriest. and i nearly stormed out. i was about down the driveway when he swung the door open.
"baby, come back!"
i couldn't help it. we're like magnets, we have to stay together no matter what. wherever he is, i've got to be--without him, i'm nothing. so of course, i pick my bags up and off the sidewalk and slowly walked back in. i was greeted by a kiss on the forehead, followed by "i love you," stale with the alcohol on his breath. i can't tell him to stop--love is accepting, right? love accepts wrongdoings and hides them under the carpet.
but of course, after one fight, there's bound to be others. they got more and more frequent, which led up to me getting my face bruised like hell. but he apologized--he won't do it again!
"baby, next time i'll show restraint! that's what the drywall's for, right?"
i couldn't help but laugh at that, that's one of the things that i love about him--he always throws in some sort of humor.
...but it's one day later, and i'm out on the sidewalk. and he's watching me, i can tell, and right like that i hear the door snap open.
"baby, come back! take your bags off the sidewalk! come back, please!"
and of course, i'm right back with tears in my eyes, empty "sorries" mumbled into his shirt and he holds me close, "i love you" echoing like one bad punchline. but i love those words--they're what i live for. it doesn't matter how beat up i get, those words are my lifeblood.
---
it's two in the morning, and everything's so hot. i can't move, my hands and feet are tied to the bedposts. somewhere i can hear maniacal laughter and raucous cries. what got me into this? oh right, he said he'd do this. shit.
i was out on the sidewalk for about the eighth time this week, and like a broken record the door is open again and the words "come back!" ring through the neighborhood. but this time, there's a different spin on it. "come back, baby, i love you!" as i'm back in his arms, i hear him muttering, "if you try and fuckin' leave again, i swear i'll tie you to the bed and set this house on fire."
i didn't count on him following through with that. but he loves me, right? it's getting hotter, and flames are starting to lick the bedpost. my wrists are sweating, and the rope is agonizingly tight. i try to shout, but my mouth is bound. the first jet of fire screams up the rope and starts to gnaw on my wrist. my eyes water, my throat dries, but i can't do anything. he loves you, it's okay, he loves you. i squeeze my eyes shut, and look up towards to the ceiling, trying to divert my attention from the caustic heat. "i love you" is carved on the ceiling, along with a heart. it's all i see before i forget how to breathe.
Wow that's dreadful. However, I think the maniacal laughter in the background makes it less... realistic? Also I think when abusive husbands say they love you, they genuinely feel like they mean it, and then mood swings/alcohol come in and they are angry and violent again, but I don't think they usually intend to be deceitful. I could be confused, though, and I do like this piece for as dreadful as it is. Also I think most women in abusive relationships come back out of fear rather than out of a genuine belief that he loves her.
ReplyDeleteupon reading it again, what you say holds true about the laughter--it's a bit weird. i didn't mean for him to be insane. oops.
ReplyDeletei'm not sure about the love part though, the character does mention the "love accepts wrongdoings and hides them under the carpet," so... that's my rationale.