Monday 16 December 2013

November 25, 2012

There was knocking-- my heart pounded with each tap at my door. Police I thought.  Images of my husband in handcuffs darted through my head.

I covered my half naked body with a blanket. My clothes had been torn off hours before; his hand had grasped around the collar of my shirt as I tried to get away, tearing it clean off my body. I was thankful it wasn't my hair. Eventually it would be that too.

My pants came off as he dragged me backwards towards the bedroom by the leg of my pajamas. Later he would use them to shove into my face. Nearly suffocating me; the smell of that laundry detergent still prompts flashbacks.

The knocking continued. Four or five more times.  He answered.

I lied there wearing some scraps of clothing and fresh, swollen bruises. Hand prints stained my skin--it looked like dye. Fake.

I heard my mother. "Where is she"  she entered without needing a response. I pulled my cover tighter around me. The light wisp of the blanket against my skin stung.

I saw K. Parka and boots were all I seem to remember now. My head spun and buzzed and I realized how disoriented I was. Before this moment it felt like a wild dream. My imagination. But here I was.

As I sat upright my knee shot with pain. Tight like an elastic stretched too far.

I remember little. A last scared glance at his face.  He was scared too.  Grabbing my blue bag. The one I kept for emergencies.  K hugging me as she put me in the front seat of her Pontiac.  The ice. The bandaids.  The cover up...

Thursday 12 December 2013

Last thing I'd say

Once in a while I wonder what I would say to my husband if he gave me five minutes of his time. What I could say to him, if for a short while I could unload. The truth is the answer to this has evolved over the past year. Morphed and changed, growing and shrinking as I too evolved.

Several nights ago this scenario danced through my head again. This time only a single thought crossed my mind.

There was no anger; I didn't fantasize about lashing out with a furious tongue. Using all those words my friends had used a year ago.

There was no regret; I didn't feel sorry or sad or hate either the marriage, the ten years, the pain I endured 
both pre and post.

There were no explanations. No questions. There were no long winded speeches plump full of tangents about how I'm better of or why nothing will ever feel the same.

There was no apologies. No guilt.

There was no I miss you or I hate you. No I loved you.

All I have left to say to him was please figure you out. Please understand what makes you hurt, understand who you are.
Be emotionally intelligent.

Realize that tough doesn't make you a man. You may hurt, curse the world and break down. Its okay. It doesn't make you less valuable to anyone. You may even become more connected.

Maybe this has nothing to do with why you got angry. Why you hit me and yelled instead of talking to me. Just remember that you may have lost something because the only way you knew to show hurt was to make someone else hurt too.

If you find someone better for you.  And you might.  Treat her well. Talk to her. Tell her she's disappointed you. Or you parents upset you. Tell her you're scared.

I sincerely wish you nothing but the best in life. Goodbye.

Thursday 5 December 2013

Reflecting, a year later.

It's been a year since everything begun to change. Here I am and I can barely recall the time before this chapter began. Its like looking down a dark hallway, squinting, trying to make out shapes of figures in the distance. Everything is blurry.

As much as I aknowledge the path that brought me here I am okay with the fading details. Unlike my last life, when I hopelessly grasped at the past, the memories, the things I missed. I use to struggle to remember the most intricate details of a happy life. Now I'm content and excited for my future, my focus is on this instead. 

Once and I while I will come across something that makes me feel nostalgic, and I miss that life. For a fleeting moment and then it is gone.

In the last year I have found myself traveling, taking risks, making friends. I have found myself with bigger aspirations, more meaningful and attainable dreams.

In the last year I have shed more tears than the 25 years prior, though I have also taken to smiling more; and laughing. Laughing happens a lot now. 

12 months ago, I said no a lot.  I turned down experience and opportunity. I lived by rules that I didn't make. Now, I live only by the guidance of myself; and I say Yes more often than not. 

The last year is one that I may remember in vivid detail for the rest of my life. The year I walked away, the year I threw out my cover up and began my life. The past year might also disappear down that hallway...

But that is alright by me.