I remember sitting waiting at the train tracks with my mom and she was telling me about a bad relationship my Aunt was it. She was beaten and she was cheated on, but she was in “love” so she didn’t care. I remember shaking my head in almost disgust and saying, “Mom that will never happen to me.” She tried to give me the whole “it can happen to anyone” speech, but I wouldn’t listen. I was tough. I didn’t put up with crap from anyone. I knew that I was different, that it just wouldn’t work with me. I wouldn’t let it happen.
I did though. I remember that the when I started to put all this together I remembered that conversation I had with my mom trying to reassure her that I knew what love was and that I wouldn’t put up with that. I remember crying because of how mad I was at him. I remember thinking “I should have hit him” I could have landed a good one on him multiple times. But, I never did not once. Not even after we ended it and I would see him in the passing I would lower my head and walk past, instead of confronting him and rising a fist. In a sense I guess he’s been through enough in his life it doesn’t seem fair to drag him into his consequences of this. As the word started to spread that he wasn’t the best to me more of my friends started to get angry. Even more threatened to beat him an inch from his life, and this never crossed my mind-to have someone else hit him for me. If anyone would take out my trash it would be me, and if I’m not going to– your not going to.
Even still sometimes I get caught in the “I can’t believe it happened to me.” It seems a waste of energy to hate him, to want to hit him, in a sense I feel extreme pity for him for his life. He was very ignorant. I just want to get better, I just want to sleep through the nights, stand through the moments, I just want to live my life again.
Instead of living a half limp, scarred, and flawed life.