LIKE POISON...

The one thing that the world will never tell you about an abusive relationship is that you will be in love. You will feel sorry for your abuser and you will feel like you're all they have. Because abuse starts slow, it's hard for victims to see just how serious it's getting. Today, it's verbal. Tomorrow, you're lying in a pool of blood wondering how you got that far.

I was one of those people who always used to go, "why can't she just leave him?" Every single time I heard an abuse story, I thought it was her fault for staying. Until it was me flirting so hard with death, I just decided I'd say my last prayer. You brought death to me.

We all like to blame the alcohol but is it really the alcohol? I could tell in every moment that you were somehow angry at me for something. You did amazing things for me. You were so close to perfect. All the while making it easier for me to make another excuse for you when you got abusive. In case you think that I just left you abruptly and tossed you out, I would like to share a few of my memories with you.

I remember the first time you made me fail to fall asleep. You were extremely drunk, some friends had shaved a patch in your head as a prank. You kept mumbling angrily and every time I asked, you looked at me with a smile and kissed my cheek. It made me forget about the mumbling till you lay next to me and held my wrist so tight, I couldn't move. You fell asleep like that and I pitied you. Poor you, scared to be alone. At the expense of my comfort, I lay awake, opening the door to abuse till the sun came up and I was certain neighbors would hear me if I decided to scream.

The next time I got scared, we were out with friends. Had quite the lovely night until we had an argument and I wanted to leave. You insisted on leaving together and there we were, at your house a few minutes later. I couldn't fall asleep. I paced up and down, scared that alcohol would fail me if I lay down and that would have been the end. Somehow, I still stayed. Awake. Till the sun came up.

Nothing scary happened for months and one day, I was sleeping and you walked in. So quietly, I didn't hear a thing. I felt pressure on my face. Not pain. Pressure. I was still half asleep, trying to process what was happening. I just got hit in the face really hard and there you were, leaning over me. You kept hitting, I kept bleeding. I woke up complete and pushed you off somehow. I ran around the house, banging on all the doors, screaming for help. Nobody showed up. You were calm for a moment and let me wash my face. While I washed it, you changed your mind and put my face in the tub.

Anybody that knows me knows that I can't swim. That means I can't hold my breath. Less than 20 seconds later, I was inhaling water. Feeling myself getting weak and feeling your hand around the back of my neck. It's so hazy, I don't remember how I hit you or how I got up or even how I got you calm enough to find myself running down the street at 3 AM, having made the first 911 call I had ever made in my life.

But as usual, I forgave you. Even without a solid explanation. Just that you didn't remember. Why would I forgive you? Because love makes you a complete idiot. I chose to linger on the good. Love only makes you see the best possible result of a bad situation. I was filled with love for you. So eventually, there I was, lying in a bed next to you. Wide awake until you woke up and left the house. That's usually when I could sleep soundly.

One day, you tripped again. But this time was different. I was pregnant. You slapped me once and there I was, ready to slit your throat with a knife in my hands. You have no idea how many times i wished you would just die so I wouldn't have to be the one to kill you. I had fantasies of pretending to cry while they lowered your casket at a burial with no guests because that's how evil you were in my eyes. That's the image of yourself you painted for me.

In that moment, planning to kill you, I felt so happy. I did my research on slow poisons and traces. I woke up one day and poisoned your food. I did this on so many days. I always changed my mind and sometimes, I even threw it out. Being who I am, I pitied you every time they started to work and you got sick or couldn't stop sleeping. I tried so many times to kill you, but that just isn't the person I am. I didn't want to have a child with your blood running through it. I didn't want any reminders of you.

I knew I had to leave you. You knew it too and you asked me so often. So I decided to be nice to you. I decided to put on my best smile and show the little love I had left for you until I had the chance to leave you. I waited patiently and fed you stories about why I was constantly ill. You were a hazard. You were my slow poison. The only difference is that I changed my mind about poisoning you every time you got ill when you added more poison every time you saw me survive one dose.

Being abused taught me that even though men have the upper hand in physical strength, women have the upper hand with emotion. You bought my love bullshit, all while I poisoned you from time to time and smiled in my mind, cuddling you, knowing you couldn't overpower me if anything happened that day. Abusing someone is a threat to their lives, quite alright but it's more of a threat to your abuser. Because really, how many pregnant women would have changed their minds about killing their abuser in that moment?