Porque é que fiquei

Everybody asks: “Why did you stay?”, “How could you put up with that kind of treatment?”, “I would’ve just left.” I’ve asked those same questions to others and made the same statements. But until you’re inside the relationship, you have no idea what it’s like.

I am kind and trusting, and I can honestly say this was so very different from any other beginning. I didn’t even see it coming. This didn’t start with sex and build from there as my relationships usually do. There were no sexual innuendos, no come-on’s, no flirting; there were intelligent, mind-stimulating conversations, good advice both given and received, and quiet comfortable company. I fell in love with his mind, his friendship, his soul.

Olhando para trás, vejo claramente que não tinha a certeza de quem era e onde pertencia. Era recém-divorciada, mãe solteira, após a reabilitação por abuso de álcool. Tinha deixado de ter contacto com a maior parte da minha família direta e estava a lutar para recuperar o respeito e a confiança no meu emprego poderoso, bem pago e extremamente stressante, que era o único sustento para mim e para os meus dois filhos adolescentes.

Podia escapar ao mundo estruturado em que vivia e trabalhava e ser eu própria ao pé dele. No seu mundo, ninguém julgava e toda a gente compreendia que todos tínhamos dificuldades que não eram melhores nem piores do que as dos outros.

But not knowing who you are and where you belong puts you in an extremely vulnerable and dangerous position if you’re not careful. The more time I spent with him, the more we shared our individual hopes, dreams and greatest fears. Comecei a apaixonar-me por ele, e eventualmente a nossa amizade went to the next level—at my persuasion.

And I was completely taken aback by his bold displays of love and affection. It was obvious to anyone around us that we were together—whether it be my hand on his back, his hand rubbing my leg, or his loving kiss goodbye in front of everyone. Friends and acquaintances that had known him for years said they’d never seen him behave this way.

Esses mesmos amigos diziam repetidamente que ele gostava de mim, que estava interessado em mim, que me queria por perto, que me respeitava, etc. Vi este durão, este mauzão baixar a guarda e permitir-me experimentar o homem amoroso, suave e compassivo que queria ser tocado e amado.

And love him I did. I valued and loved him dearly as my friend and that only deepened to a level I’d never experienced. I was blown away by the depth and intensity of love I felt for him. In 21 years of marriage, children, and growing up with my ex husband, I never once felt the connection and depth of love as I did with him. Yet I knew from the beginning Eu amava-o mais do que ele me amava a mim.

I loved him with all of me—with wild, reckless abandonment and would have moved heaven and earth for him. And for a short time, I was truly happy and content. I will always question if my love for him was too intense and was to blame for the demise of us.

Did my intensity scare him, blind him, overwhelm him? Or was this the predestined fate of the universe to teach me something? There’s no answer to my ‘whys’ and no point to asking ‘what if’s’ because there’s no way to get closure on anything that breaks you as wide open as he broke me.

Meses depois, olho para trás e percebo que fui intimidado, manipulado, mentido e ameaçado. Recebi o tratamento do silêncio, fui ignorado e dispensado. Fui brutalmente espancada, desmoralizada e voltei para mais. O homem por quem me apaixonei desapareceu poucas semanas depois de a nossa relação se ter tornado sexual.

Mas agora questiono-me if the whole relationship wasn’t just an illusion e fiquei com graves problemas de confiança. Sempre tive confiança na minha própria intuição, perceção e discernimento, mas de repente estava a duvidar de tudo o que fazia.  

I wish I could say I was one of those brave, strong women you read about that wakes up and realizes she’s worth more and leaves, but that’s not my story. He left my bed one morning after an incredibly loving weekend and never came back.  He woke up one day and decided not to talk to me, not to tell me goodbye, nothing. And I was left reeling for months wondering what I did wrong, why wasn’t I good enough, and blaming myself for not proving myself worthy enough for his love.

Agora, debato-me com os extremos polares das emoções que sinto. Amo profundamente e sinto falta do lado bondoso e gentil que ele me mostrou, mas odeio e temo o seu outro lado mau e violento. Como é que posso sentir falta de alguém que foi responsável por um comportamento tão vil para comigo? Como é que posso ter saudades de alguém que violentamente esmagou o meu corpo com o seu ódio enquanto dizia amar-me? Faço-o porque o amor que senti era tão incrivelmente poderoso que se sobrepôs e ofuscou qualquer intelecto.

E assim começo a minha viagem, um pequeno passo de cada vez, para libertar as poderosas garras do amor desiludido e caminhar em direção ao amor-próprio e à paz.

por Cindy Richards