I don’t think I could ever have imagined myself being in a mess such as this. I don’t think I ever imagined myself to be capable of loving someone who broke me, someone who managed to destroy everything I worked so hard for. But I do.
You see, I can’t shake this feeling that I could’ve done things differently.
Maybe if I’d tried harder, maybe if I’d stayed a little bit longer, he would’ve changed. Maybe if I’d given him another chance, maybe this time it would be different. But I try to remind myself every day that I never caused any of this, so I have no power in changing it. Every time I dream of his face, I force myself to look at the scars on my arms.
Every time I dream of his lips, I remind myself of all the hateful words that passed through them. Every time I find myself missing the man I once fell in love with, I remind myself of the man that he became in the end. The man who destroyed me.
But, God forgive me, I still love him.
I can still hear him screaming after me, calling me back into the house, calling me back to him. Begging me to stay. And for so long, I wondered if I’d done the right thing.
He told me he needed me, but I left him. He asked me to help him, but instead, I chose to help myself.
He begged me to stay, but I ran away. Maybe, if I had stayed, maybe if I had tried to help him, he could be better. But you see, taking care of someone cannot come at the cost of self-abandonment.
Taking care of his needs and neglecting mine is what I did the rest of our relationship, so I’m trying to remind myself every day that it wasn’t me who abandoned him.
He abandoned us the moment he raised his voice, the moment he threw me into a mirror. He abandoned us the moment he made me an object.
But, God forgive me, I still love him.
I never left because I decided I didn’t love him. I never left because his abuse washed away my love. I left because I decided that I loved myself more.
I left because I couldn’t keep hoping that he would change and keep getting my heart broken on a daily basis when I realized he wouldn’t. I left because I couldn’t keep loving for both of us, hoping that my love would change his behavior. Hoping that maybe my love was strong enough to chase away the abuser from him. But it never was.
My love, my hopes, my dreams, they were just games to him. My feelings and my body were toys to him. It had nothing to do with me, it was all about him and his needs.
But, God forgive me, I still love him.
I still love the man who made me feel like I was the luckiest woman alive.
I still love the man who would bring me coffee in bed and roses every Sunday. I still love the man who would sing me lullabies every time I was sick. I still love the man who would kiss away the tears from my face, the man who would kiss every inch of my body, making me feel like I was a goddess he was worshipping.
I still love the man I once knew, and I can still see pieces of that man in the one I left. I can still see traces of love that used to be in his eyes and the curves of his smile on his face. I can still feel the warmth of his body against mine. I can still see the man I once loved, but I don’t think he can do the same.
I guess in the end, it’s not God whom I should ask forgiveness from. It’s the woman I used to be.
