Today I cried. Yesterday I stopped studying and cried because I hit you, I fought to see what was in your purse. You protected that purse as if it were your most priced possession and it was, for you it was. Three 24 oz beer cans, that is what you fought for. You sinked your teeth into my skin to avoid me looking in your bag of wonders. I fought you, I elbowed you and I hit you. Believing if I poured the contents out of the bag, out of the can that you would stop. That you would reconsider. I took two cans out, then you taunted me and said there you won but still clutched your bag.
We continued our song and dance and I raised my fist. In that moment I wanted to hurt you, punch you multiple times until I saw blood until you were down and immobilized. I think you knew, you knew I wanted to do that so you dropped your purse and l put my fist down I grabbed the remaining can of beer you were protecting. And yet you were still drunk that night.
There is still a hint of me inside, who I once was. Do you remember me? You remember I was once a happy, outgoing, brown skinned, short haired 7 year old. I protected you, remember when I would hide those same cans for you once. I helped you hide them away when they were empty or when they were full inside my backpack. Do you remember me? Do you remember that I used to wake you up when you fell asleep on the toilet seat every night? I used to keep an eye on you when ever you went into the restroom and after 15 minutes that you didn't surface I would knock. I remember our routine, I knocked and you snored remember? It was like a game "try to break into the restroom to see if she is okay game". Do you remember me standing in front of you shaking you to wake up? A 60 pound child was trying to lift her 200 pound mother of the toilet, tug of war will call that a game too.
Now I stand before you, a 24 year old who is selfish, shy, angry, no longer confident and with a secret. Drawing into my room replaying what just occurred, knowing I did want to hurt you. Stopping because long ago you crouched down defenseless in a corner and my father hit you. That night I remember you crouching down taking cover from his blows I stood crying and screaming for it all to stop, now you crouched down again yet I was the one lifting my hands to hurt you and my little brother stood watching. I cried at the state of it all, that fact that now they had to experience living with you. Sad thing is that I believe, I pray, I cry, I would even give my life for you to stop drinking, and I just realized you would do none of that for me. I sit here and cry and say I want to die, but why? Why do you get to choose my fate. Why do your actions affect if I live or die. Im not going to give you that power. Not anymore. You won you get to stay with your alcohol but today November 5th 2019, I opened my eyes.
