Living in Fear

For the longest time I thought I was in love. The bruises and choke marks that lined my body were ones that would be forgiven and forgotten about because a simple “I love you” and “I’m sorry” would fix it all. I thought that the constant texts or calls were signs of love. I thought that them trying to find love elsewhere were signs of things I was lacking. I thought that I had to put the stress of having to provide for not only myself, but for another upon my shoulders. I thought that eventually instead of being the supporter we’d become a team. I thought it would get better because we had big plans for life, but it didn’t.

I can’t pinpoint where things started to drift. I can’t even think of the specific incident that occurred. What I can recall are the several black eyes, gashes to my head, trips to urgent care because of “falling” and the fear of sleeping in my own bed, with someone who claimed to have loved me. Every time I hear a door knob jiggle, or a key insert in the door, I cling and cringe hoping no one is after me. That’s not to mention me looking over my shoulder day in and day out. I’m scarred for life.

There were many things that lead up to this. Things I should have noticed before like ignoring, running away, making up stories and going to the extreme like calling the cops or my own family. I guess looking back you could say I was blindly in love. In love with someone who claimed to love me, and tell everyone they did, but also do the most to hurt me. I started to believe that being hurt meant being in love. Truth be told, of course they are out there playing victim and saying everything was my fault. Do they have the scars to prove it? Are they living in fear? Do they even know half of what I’m feeling? Clearly screaming and crying in agony when you’re getting beaten doesn’t make someone stop. Nor does sitting there and taking it. Perhaps I could have easily defended myself, but I had so much respect for this person. What did I get? My name thrown around, property destroyed, spit in my face, water bottles opened on top of me and many other things I can’t even fathom to think about. To think that I was in love with this scares me.

The hardest thing to do in life is leave someone you loved wholeheartedly. I write this shaking and with tears in my eyes because not only did this make me lose my heart, but my best friend. Someone who I spent so much time with, and created so many wonderful memories slipped out of my hands faster than I could ever imagine. I wish I would have solved everything. I wish things were different. I wish I could have stopped it from the beginning, or maybe I wish we hadn’t continued the first time it happened, and I hadn’t fallen this deep. It’s so easy to forgive and forget until it happens again. It’ll stop eventually, right? It doesn’t.

What I do wish them is the best. I wish they would see this as an experience to learn from, and treat the next person they love with respect.

What I wish to their next love is to not wait for things to get better. Once it happens, it will happen over and over again. Set a boundary before, and once it’s crossed, do not give in.

Fear shouldn’t be felt by someone you claim to love.