Gracias por dejarme

I once saw something that captured my attention and I didn’t know why. Something that I
pensé que era tan importante en ese momento, algo que me invadía como si me estuviera pasando a mí.

That day, I went to the bus station as I did every single day. But that day I got up a bit earlier and I decided to leave immediately, despite the fact that I was going to be early for the bus. I thought, what the hell, I’ll grab a cup of coffee and I’ll walk around; it was a lovely day anyway.

So, there I was. I took my coffee to go and I put on my headphones. I grabbed a smoke and I sat on the small wall that was hidden in the bushes. Oh God, it was such a good place to enjoy and hide when you didn’t want anyone to bother you. You know, just in case you meet someone at the bus station when you don’t feel like talking that much.

Me senté allí durante media hora. Bebí café y de vez en cuando miraba a la gente que pasaba casualmente a mi lado. Me preguntaba qué estarían haciendo, adónde irían. Me interesaban mucho sus vidas. Así que mientras jugaba un poco al perfil psicológico, cuando sucedió aquella escena que recordaré el resto de mi vida. De repente, vi un coche pequeño y gris que se dirigía hacia la estación de autobuses a gran velocidad.

The driver hit the brakes so hard that the tires left marks on the road. The next thing I saw was a very angry woman rushing out of the car, slamming the door behind her. She opened the trunk, took out two huge bags and threw them on the curb with every ounce of her strength. Then out came a guy from her car. That is a scene I’ll remember for the rest of my life. That is a scene I survived like it was happening to me.

You see, he got out of the car, looking all poor and broken. He looked like he didn’t have a reason to live. She kicked him out of her life, she kicked him out of her car. And she left. She left without looking back.

But that moment, seeing him alone and abandoned, captured me. I’m not saying that he didn’t have it coming. Maybe he did but somehow I was on his side. Somehow he got my sympathy.

I had no idea why I was rooting for him in that situation. I don’t know why I felt so sorry for him. But something inside me woke up. It’s like I could have understood exactly how he was feeling. I could feel the pain and I felt uncomfortable and asustado.

Pero después de tantos años, algo me ocurrió. Después de tantos años, por fin tenía la respuesta a la pregunta de por qué sentía tanta empatía hacia aquel pobre tipo abandonado en la estación de autobuses.

You see, I lived with an abuser. I lived with a man who used me in every way possible and I couldn’t leave him.

I couldn’t break free from the chains he kept me in. I had no one and I had nowhere to go. For so many years, I put up with insults, with screaming and threatening. For so many years, I walked around him on eggshells because if I did something he didn’t like, he would flip out. He would go crazy. I completely adjusted my life so it suited him. Actually, there was no more me in that relationship, it was only him and his wishes.

And the worst of it was that he claimed he loved me. He tried to convince me that I was not quite myself, that Satan had got into me and he had to get him out. He tried to convince me that I was a bad person but that somehow it wasn’t my fault. He tried to make me believe that everything I did was wrong and everything he did, every hurtful word he screamed at me and every insult he gave me, was right.

He would lay a ton of hurtful things on me because ‘I had it coming’ but he always did it in a way that I believed he was my savior. He ruled over me because he would hurt me and offer me help at the same time.

I was scared for my life sometimes. He would go crazy and throw things around the house. He would break things because I’d said something that he didn’t want to hear.

Poco a poco me cansé de elegir cuidadosamente mis palabras y de renunciar a mis sueños porque él tenía un problema con algo, porque estaba celoso o por cualquier otra razón que se te pueda ocurrir. Poco a poco empecé a demostrarle que quería recuperar mi vida y os podéis imaginar su reacción cuando se dio cuenta de su pequeño presosu marioneta, se le escapaba de las manos.

And now we get to the part that is carved deep in my mind. It was a day like any other. We were at peace that day because I hadn’t given him a reason to flip out. Of course, that wasn’t a guarantee that he wouldn’t. I came home from work and there he was, sitting on the couch, doing absolutely nothing, like always.

Como estaba tan aburrido de su vida, cogió la mía para jugar con ella. Decidió manipularme y acosarme porque no tenía nada mejor que hacer. Lo vi en sus ojos en cuanto entré en casa. Vi la ira reprimida que se escondía detrás de un rostro indiferente. I knew that this day wouldn’t end well for me and I was right.

I tried to avoid him and talk to him as little as possible. I knew if I made one wrong move, all hell would break loose. So I was so careful, I was invisible in my own house. But that wasn’t enough, it never was.

When an abuser wants to create you a problem, when he wants to stress you out, he will do it. Even if you don’t give him any reason to do so, he will create a reason, from scratch. From nothing.

It all began with just one question. I knew where he was going with that. His jealousy was so sickening, it consumed his mind every time. I know he had no idea what he was saying and what he was dong. Actually, I comfort myself with that thought. I simply can’t accept the fact that someone who is supposed to love you and someone you love back could do something like that to you intentionally.

Entonces empezaron los gritos. Gritos. Maldiciones. Insultos. Todo el repertorio. Me quedé allí de pie sin lágrimas que llorar. Las había llorado hace mucho tiempo. Me quedé allí y escuché todas las palabras desagradables que se te puedan ocurrir. Le pedí a Dios que todo terminara lo antes posible.

Pero no tenía fin. Incluso cuando me callaba, me obligaba a hablar. Amenazó con romper mis cosas, amenazó con golpearme y matarme. Así que tuve que formar parte de su pequeño espectáculo. Tenía que responder a sus preguntas dándole las respuestas que él quería oír. Tuve que convertirme en otra persona hasta que todo terminó.

He always threatened to kick me out of our apartment. He always threw my things around the house but he never actually kicked me out. I honestly never thought he had the balls to do it. Until today. I was standing in the hallway, hopelessly looking at him packing my stuff. I couldn’t get anywhere near the room. I couldn’t talk to him. I even found myself begging him to let me stay.

I know that’s so pathetic. A grown, independent woman begging her fucking abuser to stay. But at that moment, I had no one and I had nowhere to go. He was the only ‘safe’ place I knew. I was scared of what was ahead of me. I was scared to take that step into the future.

We pushed each other in the hallway. Me trying to stay and him trying to kick me out. I wasn’t that fuerte and I fell and he dragged me to the floor. I will never forget the moment when he finally opened the door out and kicked out my stuff. I knew I was next but I didn’t have the strength left in my body to fight. Maybe I did and my body didn’t want to listen to me.

Nunca olvidaré cómo me empujaba y me arrastraba mientras yo me agarraba al marco de la puerta como si mi vida dependiera de ello. Pero lo hizo. Me empujó y me dio patadas. Me escupió en la cara. Se deshizo de mí para siempre.

Now I know why I felt sorry for that guy at the bus station so many years ago. I know exactly how he felt. Maybe he fucked up something, maybe he didn’t. Maybe he had it coming and maybe he didn’t. But me and him, we were in the same mess. My heart ached then as it aches today.

I took my things and I left for the bus station. I sat in the exact same place in the bushes where I had been sitting so many years ago. No one could see me. You know, the perfect place when you don’t want anyone to bother you.

Only this time, I didn’t have anywhere to go. I didn’t have to catch the bus. I had all the time in the world and I didn’t know where to start or what to do.

The only thing I knew deep inside my mind and my heart was that my story didn’t end there . It had just begun. Now I’m lost, hurt and confused. Now, I’m alone and have nowhere to go. But at least I’m free. At least I’ve got another chance to start all over again.