This I believe, true love shouldn’t hurt.
“YOU LOOKED AT HIM!” His shrill voice is yelling at my clueless, young face. I wonder. He is four terrifying inches from my face, and I feel the strong force of his breath drive me farther into the solid wall on which my shapes are already engraved. I wonder. I feel the saltiness of a tear stream down my cold face, yet I know my cheeks are crimson red with the embarrassment of thinking an absentminded person will hear, although I know the house is filled with an empty silence. He continues to shout – the type of shouting that rings in the back of your eardrums. I wonder. All there is for my naive mind to do is stand there and take the shouting and emotional pain that are unbearably detaching my heart from everything else in my body. I witness tears in his eyes, but I also see blankness. The blankness I put up with everyday. I wonder. I wonder what the blankness is screaming at me about, for I have no idea. I try to remember a guy I might have mistakenly looked at, which is a difficult rule under this dictatorship of the “loving” boyfriend I have. “Think, think, think,” I tell myself, but I cannot remember. I do remember talking to a male person for no more than an unreasonable minute, but I will not tell this angry person. He would drive his bloody fists into walls and yell even louder that it would shake my solid ground. Then he will shun me, which I will go back and plead for his mercy. I wonder.
I can feel my tears and their absence of emotion. My knees grow weary and my heart is heavy; it is painfully beating in the pits of my stomach. I wonder. I put my emotions on the floor, begging for this ferocious human to stop, but he does not, and I am trying to stare away from this irritated beast. The thought of; “Why me?” runs through my mind. I ponder how I got myself into this particular situation; however I disagree to the average person. The type of person who could easily be proud of saying that they would leave someone controlling their life if they threatened to kill themselves if you parted with them. I wonder.
I feel a sudden wave of chills as I see that he is raising his clenched fist. It is quickly cocked back, proceeded by being swung forward, pounding the unyielding wall no more than an inch from my heated, red ears. He rips the pine door open. I hear the crack of the wall being ruined and running footsteps towards the innocent laundry room. I listen to another loud crack assuming he has resorted to thrash something else. I wonder. My knees release and bend my body into a crouching, child-like position. I rest my head within my hands and add tears to the stream that continue to run down my face. I can hear his sharp sob, cold heartedly screaming because I did not follow his strict orders. I press my fragile hands against the wall to aide myself to standing in an upright position. I slowly walk out into the dim hallway, icy floor beneath my feet, and follow the sound of his cries. I try to think of what to say; because in no less than a minute I will be apologizing for something I do not know I did. I wonder.
Five years later, this I know: true love shouldn’t hurt.
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