But He Loves Me~~{Tyrus} COMPLETED

26

•Cyrus•
            The sun was warm, shining across TJ and I's bodies. I played with my wedding band, my head on my husband's chest listening to his heartbeat. We have been married for sixteen years as of yesterday and I honestly can't believe we've lasted this long. Everyone had always told us that it wouldn't happen. That we weren't meant for each other. A high school boyfriend would stay a high school boyfriend. But here I am, snuggled up to Thelonious Jagger Kippen. In our home that we purchased at twenty-three years old and share with our three, hopefully soon four, children.

        We had our first when we were nineteen. We had already gotten married, but in no way wanted kids. After having sex during our honeymoon, our little girl surprised us. We named her Theo Rose Kippen. She's a bright eyed beautiful girl, long blonde hair and beautiful honey brown eyes. Her and a girl named Elia have been dating for about a year, and they remind me so much of TJ and I. Our daughter being a sporty and jock-type person, guarded and shy and a bit standoff-ish. Elia is like me. She has demons and you can see them within the dark lights of her eyes when she stares at the floor and holds her arms close to her body. The way she wraps herself around our child any time they're near each other and the bruises on her pale arms, the redness from lack of sleep under her eyes. Elia is more like me.

           "What're you thinking about?" TJ pulled me close to him, placing a kiss on my lips.
"Our daughter." I mumbled, placing my head on his chest.
"Which daughter?" He asked.
"Theo." He kisses my head, running his hands up and down my back slowly.
"Have we decided if Luke is going to camp this summer? I think she might start crying if we don't find out soon." I groaned, looking up at him with some of my brown hair going in front of my eyes.
"Don't remind me."

          Luke Bambi Kippen is our second child, twelve years old and acts like she's twelve years old. Naturally, her hair is a light brown which is a mix of TJ and I. Last year, she died it black in our bathroom and refuses to get it back even though we all love her real hair. Every single day she surrounds her blue eyes with eyeliner and black eyeshadow, drawing little hearts near the corners of her eyes. She has thin, black rimmed glasses that are circular and adorable on her. She always wears all black and chains and combat boots, gloomy. Honestly, my daughter is a bit scary. But, underneath the makeup and the punk rock exterior, Luke is one of the sweetest children I've ever met. Her heart is twenty times the size of my own and TJ's combined, emotions are uncontrollable when it comes to my girl.

       "Are you taking Joshie to the dentist today or am I?" I said, sitting up and checking my cellphone to see a text from my little brother. Jagger has grown into a fine young man, in his freshman year of college.
"I can as long as you take Theo to her haircut and drop Luke off at Lola's house." TJ stood from the bed, stretching and putting a t-shirt on.

         Joshua Richard Kippen is our youngest, five years old and very timid. Joshie barely speaks, walks around as if he's stepping on eggshells and if he makes one wrong move the whole earth will shatter beneath his feat. My son is very much like me. He's feminine, quiet, shy, but joyful and optimistic. He's very tiny and wears big, fluffy sweaters with little jeans that have cuffs at the ankles. Always playing with dolls or tea sets, forcing TJ to play dress up and princesses with him. My baby boy.

        You know, if you had asked me some years back if I thought I would ever be happily married with three children by age thirty-five I would've told you that you were insane. I wouldn't have believed a word that came from your mouth. I mean, I was hopeless. Truly and utterly hopeless. All the life had been drained from my eyes and my mind like a vacuum and glass stabbed into my heart are quick and hard ever time I opened my mouth to speak. I never thought I would get to this point.

        Sometimes visions of Jonah Beck still haunt me. I will jolt awake with the feeling of his hands and body crushing me and holding me down. Every bruise is still not a bruise, it's a mark that makes me believe I'm not okay and that he will come back. That he'll come back and he will hurt my babies. I wouldn't give a shit if he hurt me, I would probably welcome it over my children. They're my everything.

        From someone who turned their life around, I can confidently tell you it gets better. I went from my mind and my thoughts threatening me and wanting to kill me. Darkness and shadows swarming in circles around my body and into me like the devil himself. I grew up hurting myself and being hurt by others. But, life doesn't have to be like that. It doesn't. It never had to be like that. Maybe, just maybe, if I were to reach out sooner. If I were to tell my mom the first time Jonah yelled at me. The first time he raised a fist. The first time he hit me. The first time he broke me. The first time he raped me. If I had told her when something, anything, happened then I wouldn't have gotten that bad. I never would have.

        So, please, to anyone reading my thoughts right now, never give up. Because when you do, you miss out on what could've been. You can miss out on marriage and children and happiness in general. If you give up, you won't get better. Happier.

And trust me...I'm happier.

Word Count: 1,024