Bruises

How it started

It was all getting too much. I had been with Olivia for 5 months now and it was going downhill-and fast. It had been great at first. "Billie Joe and Olivia"... had a nice ring to it... or so I thought...
It had started out a few months ago; she would playfully hit me if she was in a good mood and that was fine. We'd have a laugh about it. But now... if we ever get into an argument I become the woman's punching bag... it's not that it hurts like it would if I was being beaten up, just enough to leave bruises. I mean, it hurts but not enough that I would think it was some kind of assault. I can't do anything about it anyway, because if I did so much as push her away, I become the bad guy. My knuckles are bloody more often than not where I leave the house and let my anger out on the nearest solid object.

It's my own fault. I was warned that she was a funny one by various people, but I was having too much fun with her to notice my mistake. I should have confronted her the first time she hit me... not the lighthearted ones-those are just play-but the first real punch... I remember staring at her blankly, shocked at her actions, as she stared back. She stormed out, not apologising, and didn't come back for an hour. When she did return she was apologetic and got upset, so I held her and told her it was okay. It wasn't okay. Now look what's happening; I have more bruises on my body than a peach that's been thrown down the stairs... it's most definitely not okay...

But what can I do? Nothing, that's what... I just have to ride it out and hope that she stops. That's all.