independence
he promises. he promises of a forever that never comes.
he doesn’t see your pain. never has, never will. sometimes you hurt yourself, knee banging into tables, elbow blocking doors, the accidental slip of the knife while cooking. he doesn’t notice, but expects you to when he has wounds. you hate him for that. what good is being in a relationship if it’s master and servant? you curse yourself for being weak, for not leaving. you yell that one day you really will, and he just laughs and ruffles your hair gently. you don’t mention how long it takes to get it that way, nor how quickly he has just ruined it. you never do. just grit your teeth and go, you tell yourself.
you have never thought of his behavior as abuse, but your friends beg to differ. it’s neglect, they say, emotional abuse, mental abuse. get out of there before it becomes physical! you smile kindly and reassure them that you are doing just fine, and that he would never beat you. you say it with pride, because even this man has morals.
but maybe this man isn’t the same one you fell in love with, so many years ago. you don’t expect it, the first blow, because while your fights have gotten pretty nasty, they have always been just verbal. it seems like you have hit his last nerve, and his hand shoots out before the both of you can even think. he apologizes, of course he does, and all you can do is nod, tears streaming down your face. later that night, you think that maybe this is the last straw. not yet, not yet, but soon.
soon comes in a monsoon. it is raging and pouring outside, and inside is no different. he yells about how he is working to pay the damn fucking bills, and how you can't do something as simple as serve meals on time. you are yelling back about how he treats you like a bloody slave, and where is the man you once loved, where has that person gone. he doesn’t respond and his fist is drawn back, but you are already across the hall, going into your shared bedroom. you don’t bother looking at anything, just throwing all your belongings into a suitcase. you are rolling yourself out, and you don’t look back when he places a firm hand on your shoulder. you shake him off with just as much force as you pull the door open. where the hell do you think you’re going in this type of weather, he says to you, calmer now. you don’t care, you are still seething, you are getting out of there.
you run in the rain, coming down heavy on you. you are soaked to the bone, and shit it’s freezing out there. should’ve brought a jacket. but you’ve never felt so free in your life. it is a new beginning, a new start, so you look up to the sky and laugh, happy pearl-like giggles jumping from your mouth. you dance in the rain for a while, before another heavy blast reminds you that a freaking monsoon is occurring and you’re standing outside like an idiot. you rush over to the nearest coffee shop, the warmth of it enveloping you. a kind barista offers you a towel, and even though it probably won’t help, you take it with gratitude. tomorrow will be a new day [hopefully a sunnier one] and you will finally make decisions for yourself.
he promises of a forever that never comes. somehow you don’t mind, because you just don’t need it anymore.