“Are You Fucking Someone Else?” You Asked Me.
My stomach twisted every time you said my name. I didn’t know how to tell you that you were too rough with, me causing more pain by the time you were finished.
“Do you know how long it’s been since we had sex?”
I held my breath wishing in that moment that I could disappear into nothingness or to wake up from feeling like I was stuck in an “all too real” nightmare.
“No” I whispered, carefully avoiding your gaze as I pretended to stare out the passenger window.
“Speak the fuck up, I can’t hear you Arielle!” you yelled, as you held onto the steering wheel with clenched fists.
I risked the opportunity to peek over at you only to find you gripping your steering wheel so tight that your knuckles began to turn white under your olive skin. The hands of a basketball player I had watched dribble up and down the court over the summer.
When I glanced up at your face, I could see that your jawline was more prominent from clenching your teeth together. You had caught me glancing at you, and in doing so began to punch the steering wheel and window with all your strength.
My heart beating out of my chest, you shouted, “Answer me!” causing me to jump and hit the back of my head against the passenger window. The shock of it caused a lump to build up in my throat. Don’t cry. Don’t cry. Don’t cry. I repeated over and over.
I looked around the parking lot to make sure we hadn’t attracted an audience, secretly wishing we had so that a pedestrian could ask me if I was okay. I began to chew on my bottom lip “No,” I repeated, this time my voice more audible.
“Arielle, think about it. Think about the last time we had sex.”
“I-I don’t know,” I stammered as I kept my eyes cast down so you wouldn’t be able to see the tears welling up behind them.
Don’t cry. Don’t cry. Don’t cry. I repeated to myself again. You deserve this a tiny voice told me. You made him mad by not having sex with him this morning. Fuck what you feel, your feelings don’t count, only his. You know if he doesn’t get what he wants he’ll continue to argue until he does. Aren’t you tired of fighting? the voice continued.
I knew how long it had been, I always knew. It had been exactly two weeks I thought to myself. I had counted the days of us not fighting like a child counting the time in between lightning striking during a rainstorm. 1-one thousand, 2-one thousand, 3-one thousand…
“It’s been two weeks Arielle! TWO. WEEKS.”
My stomach twisted every time you said my name. Twisting so hard I could feel the bile rising, causing my mouth to water. You made sure to annunciate each syllable like you were trying to sound out the winning word for the county spelling bee.
“Are you fucking someone else?” you asked me. A look of bewilderment cast over your face, like an animal locked in a cage.
Hungry. Thirsty. Uncontrollable.
I looked you in the eyes, “How could you think that?” this time my voice cracking giving away that I had been holding back tears.
“Well you must be fucking someone else if it’s not me.”
My time had become wrapped up in pleasing you, whether we were at school, out on a Friday night, or with your friends — since you made it very clear how much you disliked mine. “They let you think too much for yourself,” you would tell me.
I didn’t know how to tell you that I didn’t feel comfortable having sex in your truck.
I didn’t know how to tell you that it was hard for me to be intimate with you when we fought.
I didn’t know how to tell you that you scared me.
I didn’t know how to tell you that you were too rough with me, causing more pain by the time you were finished.
So, I did what felt like I was protecting myself…I lied to you. “I’m so sorry babe,” I began, “I didn’t realize it had been that long. I promise to make it up to you.”
You continued to look at me as if you were the one having to protect yourself as if I was the bad guy in the situation. “It’s ok baby girl, why don’t we climb in the back. It’ll be a quickie.”
My stomach began to twist tighter this time. “I can’t. I’m sorry. I have to go home now.” I continued to stare at you, waiting for you to tell me I could leave.
“I scared you didn’t I? When I began to punch the steering wheel?” you asked with a sly smile. I straightened myself up from the protective ball I had curled into between the passenger seat and door.
“Yes,” I said, but you already knew that.
You put your hand underneath my chin lifting my face up to meet yours so you could gently kiss my forehead. “You know, next time I get like that just grab my fists and tell me you love me. Say, ‘I love you forever and ever times infinity to the infinity power plus two bags of chips.’”
I would quickly learn those words would never stop your anger towards me, it would only amplify it each time I uttered, “If you love me then…”
