The two bedroom prison I didn't want to begin with became the home I'd revisit on soul chilled nights.
His voice an echo teaching me to distrust anyone who may show me genuine affection.
His hands never touched my skin in a violent way but his words and actions left scars on my heart and soul that no cocoa butter could heal.
His cloying tone from across the room "are you sure you wanna wear that to work? You're looking like you might rip the seams if you bend down." Or "you're definitely a downgrade for me but I still love you."
He reminded me that I am nothing worth holding close. That I'm equal to the salted earth. That my 2 jobs, housework, and college attendance all at once could never compare to the hard work he put into loving me.
He made sure my family never saw me. That my friends felt as uncomfortable as possible when he was around. And that I knew I was alone when they turned away from me.
I was alone and so I stayed. I climbed out onto the sawed off branch so I could fall again and again for his enjoyment.
How do you tell your family that you were his human flesh light? How do you tell your friends that he shit the door in your face when you wanted closeness?How do you tell yourself that the only kind of abuse you haven't survived is the kind the public can see?
I've always loved cliche love. Pebbles at the window, flowers just because, a sweet kiss on New Year's Eve. But all that sappy, touchy, feely shit was never for him. He wasn't ever going to give me something I didn't deserve. And I believed him.
Phone calls and text messages from alias contacts. Plans made for me to be away while others were coming to stay. And the only rule "don't ever touch my phone. My privacy belongs to me."
Perhaps I hadn't shown him I loved him enough. I'll marry him I thought. That's surely the way to fix this. I planned my wedding alone. In 2 weeks. From start to finish. A guest list of 50 because that's all I was allowed. 30 of those were his. I only had 10 people I was allowed to invite. My mother wasn't on the list.
Had we gotten married here are some things that would have happened in 2021:
• I would be celebrating my 6 year wedding anniversary.
•I would be living in ignorant misery.
• I would be mentally, emotionally, verbally, and sexually abused every day.
• I would be battling depression harder than I've ever done and probably would have lost if I'm being quite honest.
And now some things I would have never done:
• I would have never learned to look in a mirror and call myself beautiful.
• I would have never gotten my seizures under control (because medication was a way for "the man" to control you.
• I would have never gotten my cosmetology license.
• I would have never repaired my relationship with my mother.
• I would have never found a man who tells me I'm beautiful and means it.
A man who is disgusted by the beginning of this poem.
A man who would never raise his hand to, sharpen his tongue for, or violate me.
A man who looks at me with such gentleness and care that I can't always stand to look back at him.
A man who says he loves me and feels it to the depths of his being.
A man who feels like a sturdy home where I can wait out my storms.
A man who accepts my love for sappy, touchy, feely shit.
