You're sitting in the hospital bed.
You're smiling but you're crying.
You're telling the nurses over and over and over
"He's not a bad person."
"I don't want you to think he's a bad person."
"He didn't mean for this to happen."
(Just like, later on, you have to tell your friends and his friends and your family and his family the same things)
They shake their heads at you, but smile and squeeze
Your hand or shoulder comfortingly.
You won't realize this until later,
But you were so far in denial
And everyone knew it.
You're in your new therapists office.
He's asking you to recall a time men didn't scare you.
You smile and say,
"What? Men don't scare me."
He frowns and reaches for a tissue,
And you flinch.
His frown deepens as he hands you the tissue,
You realize you've been crying for the entire session.
It's the day before your anniversary with him.
You've been fighting for the whole week.
You just want to talk to him,
Figure out why he's so mad at you.
Why he keeps taking it out on you.
So you bring it up,
While you try to prepare dinner.
Knowing that if you say the wrong word,
You might have to figure out a new place
To sleep for awhile.
He says something, stands up.
You're thinking the whole time:
"How did it get this bad?
What did you do wrong this time?
Why do you always do this?"
You flinch.
Your back is against the stove that you haven't turned on yet.
There's a flare of anger and pain in his eyes
As he tells you,
Trying not to yell,
"I won't hurt you!"
You realize that you're scared of him.
That you're not just in this relationship because you love him.
You're there because you fear him.
And you think to yourself
"How can I be so stupid?
I was in the last one because I was afraid.
I wasn't in love.
But I love him.
Why am I scared of him?
He won't hurt me."
But he gets mad, and slams things.
Hits himself.
And you realize it's because he won't hit you.
But he wants to hit you.
Things only ever get worse,
And sooner or later
Due to his friends advice,
You leave for two days
To give him some space.
He says he'll pick you up,
That Sunday from your friends house.
He arrives on Sunday, a little over an hour late.
He hasn't spoken to you all weekend.
You want to attribute the fear to your abuse and anxiety.
But when he shows up,
He brought most of your things.
He breaks up with you on her porch,
With cliches like
"We met at the wrong time."
"It's not you, it's me."
"I don't want this to be the end."
And you realize,
He's just painting himself as the good guy.
But he's not a good guy.
Because the one time you were honest with him
About how bad you were getting,
And you weren't even there for it because you black out when overwhelmed,
He used it so he could be the victim.
Twisted it so the suicidal girl had to comfort him because it made him lose trust in you.
And he's telling and told all his friends
That you use your mental illness
To manipulate him.
And you want to scream at him,
Because you've never done that.
He's used his everything
To twist you up.
You should have run for the hills the moment he got mad
At you for having an anxiety attack in the car
In public,
Saying
"I hate when you do this. It makes other people think I abuse you."
Because that was the moment
He probably realized he was doing exactly that.
And you should have run as far as you could,
Because that was two months before it ended,
And it only got worse.
He only got worse.
And you shouldn't have stayed,
Because he was this way from the beginning.
He has thin skin and angers too easily.
Would throw grown-up tantrums
When something went wrong
When you told him he was wrong
Or told him he hurt you.
You should have run.
You should have cut ties.
Love cannot heal someone
Who doesn't want to be healed.
And he didn't heal you
He made you worse.
But he won't be the one to break you.
Because a wolf in sheeps clothing
Will always be just that.
People will see the sheep
That sometimes gets a little too close
To the meat at dinner,
That sometimes disappears.
And a rescue dog
Will always have that pain,
But that doesn't mean you can't be happy
One day.
And that wolf in sheeps clothing,
He promised he wasn't a wolf.
He promised he wouldn't do this.
That he was just a sheep.
But what do promises mean
To monsters
Anyway?
(This doesn't go in chronological order, for those who are curious)