I remember begging for the bare minimum.
I remember praying for honesty and respect.
I remember crying myself to sleep because I wasn’t good enough.
I remember having to be a detective every minute, of every day, because there was no trust.
I remember feeling like I was crazy because everyone on the outside thought he was a great guy, but I knew I was living in hell.
I remember being embarrassed to talk to my family and friends about my home life because I knew I should have left.
I remember the desperation I felt when I was ill, and he was too busy to care for me.
I remember feeling so alone, even in a full house.
I remember being screamed at for just being me.
I remember watching him gawk at other women, and not looking at me.
I remember seeing the spark between him and his “friend” but being told I’m imaging things.
I remember being called a cunt, loser, asshole, bitch, fat-ass, stupid, and so much more.
I remember standing up for myself, putting my foot down and sending him packing.
I remember the attention, fake love, bullshit promises, fake tears, fake remorse, and compliments that all lead to second, third and fourth chances.
I remember the abuse getting worse , every time, once he got comfortable again.
I remember being choked, while being yelled at to “shut the fuck up”
I remember the drunk threat to slice my throat with a knife.
I remember finding the nude photos of his “friend” and throwing up in the bathroom, followed by a panic attack.
I remember being excited for the dates, vacations and thoughtful gifts that came after I told him to leave and he begged for another chance. I remember feeling loved and important for that brief time before it started all over again.
I remember this sick cycle and how I thought this was normal.
I remember when I finally had enough, thanks to my tumor.
I remember breathing a sign of relief, while also being very afraid.
I remember all of this trauma… but it’s getting easier to forget.
Now, I get to wake up each day, next to the kindest, most loving soul (who is soooo handsome too). I am greeted with a smile, every minute of every day. I am complimented, every day. I am loved, respected, and treated like a queen. I don’t have to be a detective anymore. I don’t have to be self-conscious anymore. I don’t have to watch what I say anymore. I get to spend my days and nights, with my best friend by my side. I woke up from a living hell, to live in beautiful life. I am adored and I adore him. My friends adore him. My kids adore him. Just recently, my 20-year-old son said “Mom, not only is XXXXX the best thing that’s happened to you, but he’s also the best thing that’s happened to me”. My heart couldn’t be happier for the life I get to live each day.