I am scared. I am very scared. I am scared of your height. I am scared of your size. I am scared of your strength . I am scared of your voice. I am scared of me. I used to love your height and your size and your strength and your voice, especially in the morning . Do not get me wrong, I still love your physique. I just see it in a different light because I am scared.
I am scared of your height because you cannot block me from the harsh rays of sunshine when we walk side by side. Your height is used to tower over me in a confrontation.
I am scared of your size because it does not represent safety and security when we have our late night walks around your place or mine when either of us visits. Rather your size reminds me that there might or might not be a chance that it will be used to put me down next time between the four walls of our apartments.
I am scared of your strength because it does not represent your ability to let me rest on your shoulder anymore but rather that it could be used against me when the need arises.
I am scared of your voice because it represents terror and fear instead of the soothing lullaby it used to before, each time I need to fall asleep beside you. Now your voice represents a weapon to overpower me.
I am scared of myself. I am scared for myself. I cannot recognize myself anymore. No matter how hard I try, I can never be as strong as you are. So I will always be at a disadvantage. I cannot tower over you and shortly be a representation of fear or terror in your eyes as you were for me. That makes me scared.
Mostly , I am disappointed. In myself, but greatly in you. I am disappointed in you for feeling the need to lay your hands on me to prove a point. The next time you tower over me or you look over me,I will have a temporary flash of fear coursing through my veins as a reminder that the tables could easily turn and I might be in the receiving end of a few blows. I took a nap a short while after the incident and instead of dreaming of you watching me walk down the aisle on a sandy white beach, I dreamed of something vivid, something more real. I dreamed of you hitting me . You were the villain in my dreams, for the first time. Moreover, I realized the monster I grew up with was no longer under my bed, he was in my dreams and this time he had a face. He could not go away by running to switch off the lights and diving under the covers. He was real. It would take a while to calm down the monster in my dreams. Now, I had bigger problems.
Younger me is disappointed in me . When I say younger me I mean the version of me 24 hours ago. This version is very different from who I was yesterday. I can barely recognize myself. There is a battle going on between my my heart and my mind and this battle is greater than any the world has witnessed.
It’s just … I know him. I mean, we have been together for so long, five years to be precise and he would never do this. He is a good guy.
I know him…
I know him. I do.
The shock of his fist on my face seems to argue otherwise.
I trusted him to at least keep me safe. Now I do not even know if he can love me for eternity like he promised. But he loves me. I just do not know if I can trust him anymore.
He apologized, he did . He cried while apologizing.That was very sincere. I mean ,it is not everyday that he cries while apologizing.
I have never seen him cry. So I believe he was being very sincere. He said he will never do it again. Ever.
He said it was my fault. He said I made him angry. So angry he had no other option but to hit me. He is right. I made him angry. I am not perfect but I try. I make him angry occasionally. Today I made him very angry so he hit me. It will never happen again.
He loves me. He told me he loved me after that.
I had just made him very angry. He made me promise not to tell anyone. He said nobody had to know. It would be our little secret because it would not happen again.
I believed him.
After all, it was my fault. I provoked him. I Will do better and not make him angry.
Maybe if I do not make him angry again, it will never happen again.
I love him too.
It was just one mistake.
Nobody has to know.
I just need not to make him angry with me.
We are okay
We are okay…
If you have not noticed yet , I didn’t write this. The writer wants to remain anonymous. But all credit goes to this anonymous writer. Till next time people.