Taylor Swift Imagines

Rock Bottom (requested)

A/N: THIS CHAPTER MIGHT CONTAINS THINGS THAT CAN EASILY TRIGGER SOME OF YOU. PLEASE, IF IT DOES, SKIP THIS CHAPTER <3

This one was requested, I hope you like it!

Your point of view:

Again, what are we fighting for? These days it seems like we're doing it just for fun. Taylor comes home from work late, stressed and tired, sometimes drunk, which I understand (at least I'm trying to), there's a lot of pressure on her. But she takes these things out on me. She screams and shouts at me, every single words of hers hurts me on a whole different level. I've never imagined things like this coming out of Taylor's mouth, especially didn't expect her to use these words against me.

Usually, I avoid fighting with her, there's no point in it. I could say or do anything, she would use my own words against me and somehow, I became the bad guy over and over again.

I hated fighting with her, I really did, I hated fighting in general. It scared me a lot. I came from a toxic family, from a family where violence and fights were normal. She knew that. Taylor knew I hated when she raised her voice at me and she was so understanding when it came to a misunderstanding between us.

But these days were different. I felt like I just didn't matter to her anymore. I felt like she would rather be with anybody else but me. These thoughts were eating me up alive and I made a huge mistake. I decided to talk to her about it.

She was standing in front of me in the kitchen, her hands placed on the counter. Her heavy breathing filled the quite room. I just stood there and waited for her to say something. Anything.

"You can't be fucking serious, Y/N" she looked deep in to my eyes and pushed herself away from the counter, taking a few steps closer to me. I flinched.

"I am, Taylor. It's out of control. You come home late every night, you don't even talk to me, or if you do, it's mostly because you're in the mood for a big fight or you need someone to take out the stress on. I'm sorry but it's true, and you know that" I sighed.

"You're being ridiculous" she let out a chuckle. I knew she's getting mad.

"Oh am I?" I raised my voice at her. It was something I usually don't do, but it was too much to handle at this point.

"You know what? I don't even know why you're still with me. If it's such torture for you to be in this relationship, just leave!" she said with a serious tone.

"Is that what you really want? Alright, you don't have to ask me twice. I've had enough of this. I've had enough of you" now, I was the one shouting at her.

She threw her hands up in defense. I flinched at her action for the second time. I thought she's about the hit me. She didn't seem to notice. She kept on arguing.

"You've had enough of me? Oh, come on! Do you think I'm enjoying coming home from work to you? Especially, when you're acting like a jealous bitch?! Well, let me be clear, I don't. Not mentioning these pointless arguments that you cause all the damn time. I just don't have the energy to do it anymore" she was irritated, I could feel it.

She tangled her hand into her hair and again, I flinched at the movement. And again, she didn't notice.

I never wanted us, our relationship to turn out like this. My parents were the same. My dad got aggressive when he was tired, drunk or high from all the drugs he had. My mom couldn't take it. She wanted to talk about her feeling with him, but she ended up in the hospital, and my dad ended up in jail.

Of course, there were times when my dad hit my mom but that night was different. He not just hit my mother. He beated her, he chocked her, he used all of his strength to make her feel worthless and pathetic. And she did. It took her years to overcome this trauma.