It won’t happen again…

This is always a lie. It always happens again.

I once met this guy. We had almost everything in common and he was so sweet to me. I really wanted to be with him and eventually he asked me out.

I did absolutely everything for this guy. I did whatever he asked of me. He was super demanding but I didn’t think anything of it. He always treated me right I guess.

Until that night..

One night, he decided to get super drunk while I was at work.

I got home and he had put stuff in front of the door so I couldn’t get in. I finally broke the back door and got into our apartment. The place was a mess. Food all over. I started to clean it all up. I just worked a 12 hour shift so I was not in a good mood to begin with.

Then I saw it. The liquor bottle. It was hidden underneath the sink. I found it when I was grabbing a new garbage bag. It was Black Velvet. Which would of course become his drink of choice. The bottle was almost empty.

When I was done cleaning I went upstairs to the bedroom to find him covered in his vomit. I tried waking him up so he could wash up and go back to sleep. I started to call out his name. Louder and louder I got and still no movement. Finally, I decided to shake him to try to wake him up. He still didn’t move so I gave up and decided to go downstairs and make something to eat and watch tv.

As I started to walk away I felt him push me. And then I was falling. Falling down the stairs. I remember every stair hurting more than the last one did. Eventually I made it to the bottom of the stairs.

In pain and bleeding, I got up and stupidly went back up the stairs.

“What the hell is your problem?”

I remember when I asked it. He just glared at me. “What was that for? Are you serious? I could’ve broken an arm or something.” At this point my blood was boiling.

“Fuck you”, was all he said.

I went back down the stairs and sat staring at the TV. I had no idea what was on and I didn’t care. I just kept thinking to myself how did he go from being such a caring guy to this monster in the 12 hours I was at work?

His phone was laying face down on the floor..

I picked it up. Maybe he had an argument with somebody. That’s when I saw all these messages between him and his ex-girlfriend. I dare not share what the two of them spoke about, but it was pretty sexual and disgusting.

I slept on the living floor that night. Well, if you call staring at the ceiling listening to his snores that I swore even the neighbors could hear. At some pint I finally fell asleep.

I woke up to the smell of coffee.

I remember waking up so incredibly sore. I had dried blood on my arm, my leg and in my hair. There he stood, smiling.

“Good morning.” He said to me.

How could he say that to me and act like it is such a normal morning. He literally pushed me down a flight of stairs for no absolute reason the night before.

I didn’t say a word. Instead I went upstairs to the shower. I locked the bathroom door behind me. Something I had never done before. He eventually came up the stairs and started to knock on the bathroom door. Asking me if I was driving him to work.

I sat there, under the hot water and didn’t say a word.

“Really you fat bitch, you aren’t going to take me to work? Fine. Pay the rent yourself. I’ll stay home and get drunk.”

He marched himself back down the stairs and I heard the sound of a beer opening. I got out of the shower and got dressed for work and left super early. Avoiding him at all costs. I told nobody about this. I worked overtime that night, hoping when I got home he would be asleep.

He wasn’t.

There he sat, with flowers and dinner made. He cleaned the apartment and did my laundry and made my favorite dinner.

“I don’t know what got into me last night, I’m sorry. I love you.”

This was the man I remembered.

I ate my dinner and decided I would forget everything that happened. People make mistakes right?

That wasn’t the last time he hit me. That was just the beginning. We fought nearly every day after that. He became even more demanding. He began to hit me, kick me, choke me, anything to hurt me if he didn’t get his way or felt I was in the wrong. He would go through my phone and block people he didn’t want me to have on Facebook.

This was the insanity I lived with for a year. An entire year of covering up bruises and crying in the shower.

He said he wouldn’t do it again. I believed him.

It always happens again.

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