As I laid in our bed. I dreamed, of you. We were broken up, yet together. You were not into me, the tables had turned.
Driving behind hundreds of cars, stop, go, stop, go. My mind goes back to him. My mind goes back to the dream I had last night where he was in it. I turned on the song “I’ll be missin you” on the way home from the training…. I can see his face, I remember how he would bob his head and smile when he was uncomfortable
It’s weird to miss someone who left me, threw me out.
I remember how I picked out certain clothes for him, how foods in our fridge were specifically for him, how he’d go to bed earlier than me and I’d turn my light off last.
I had an image in my mind, too. But girl, broaden your definition. It is not just slammed heads, but slammed doors. It is screaming, it is isolation, it is manipulation.
You’ll know, even if your mind tries to fight and confuse you. You’ll have a little Voice inside that says this isn’t right. What just happened? Am I crazy?
No, it is not your fault.
You did not sign up to be screamed at … the words sting each time “fuck you” “bitch” “shut up” “you disgust me”
You clean up, pay the bills, do your best to keep your vows. Yet you feel inadequate.. maybe it is my fault. Maybe I really am a bad wife.
NO. They say “Brittany that is abuse”, stop it, your believing lies.
Cheating. Not returning phone calls or text messages for hours. Staying out until 4am. Lying. Ignoring me for days at a time. Erratic dangerous driving.
He’s not like them, I think. He has so much trauma, I just triggered him. He didn’t mean it.
She likely won’t tell you. She’ll be scared you won’t believe her. And she loves him. She’ll stop coming around so much because she’s exhausted. She’ll go to text someone after another one of his episodes, and then put the phone down. She’s scared no one will understand or want to hear it. “I want to get off the roller coaster” she’ll remember they say.
She doesn’t feel like it’s that big of a deal. He hasn’t hit her. Sometimes she can’t even point out what he did wrong.
Who was she? She was me. I am her. She lives in me, holding all the pain. She comes out sometime, repeating those lies. Crying the leftover tears. I don’t want her to go away though, because she taught me strength and vulnerability. She taught me what I am looking for, in myself and in a partner. She taught me how to be authentic and real. Honest with who I am and what I need.