10 Months

Four

This is it.

I pulled the hem of my sleeve and pulled my other arm towards my body, out of the jacket. I did it again with my left arm.

I dropped the jacket on the floor, revealing my cold, goosebumped arms.

I removed my shirt, feeling the cold immediately hit my bare skin. My back, my stomach, everything.

I removed everything, leaving me exposed.

It was quite,
Because he was quite.

He took his time and scanned my body from head to toe.

His eyes. They seemed so broken. Never in all my life have I seen him look so upset at the sight of seeing me.

"Monique,"

He gently took my arm. His thumb grazed upon the lines revealed on my wrists.

"You," his voice cracked. "You are worth more," he paused and let the tears freely slide down his cheek. "You are worth more than the tool you used to do this."

My heart, thumping from the start, felt pain. Twisting and turning and squeezing. And my stomach no different.

"You are worth more than the glass you may have used to do this. You are worth more than the metal that you hit your head on to even think of doing this to my angel. You are worth more than whoever caused this, more than you think you are, more than I thought you were. You are worth more than when I first laid my eyes on you." He wiped the tears that fell from my cheek to my chest. "You are worth more, Monique. So much more. You don't deserve this. Please, no more."

He pulled me into the biggest, longest hug. I cried into his exposed chest and cried until I couldn't cry any longer.

10 months became 10 years
Because he loved me more than I hated myself.

You are worth more.