
I don't remember exactly when or why I was hit for the first time, but I know we were at my ex husbands parents house. I do remember the look on his face. I do remember how I felt inside and it was like he was holding my heart in his hand and stabbed it right in front of me. I cried.
I didn't leave.
He apologized and begged for forgiveness and once again professed his undying love for me. I forgave him. We were together for a very long four years. Over the course of this four years things continued to get worse. Of course it was years a go so I don't remember every day or detail, but I will list the ones that I do.
After we moved in with my ex's parents, he began becoming more controlling, about everything. Everyday was a challenge for me, to please him, to not do anything to upset him, and then start it all over again the next day. I was not allowed to go anywhere. I was 17, school was starting, naturally I would have started my Junior year, but he was afraid that I would leave him. He did not want me to go to school and be around other boys all day. He begged, I still wanted to go, he threatened, I told him I still wanted to go, and this is when he beat me for the first time. Again, I will never forget the look of his face. I was as if he had checked out, and someone else had checked in. His face, eyes, everything would change. I remember the fist blow, to my right arm. I leaned over and tried not to cry, as I looked up, almost in slow motion I saw him raise his leg to kick me, and BAM, I was down. He then walked up to me, leaned over and punched me two more times in the side. He then kicked me, and then said "Do something!" He said this as a threat, as a taunt, do something I dare you. I just sat there and cried. His parents were there, they heard the whole things and did nothing.
After he would hurt me, of course I would be mad, and horribly depressed and distraught, but he would say things to me like; I'm sorry girl, I love you so much, why do you make me have to get like that". So in my head, even though I knew it was not my fault, I heard his words, and I guess on some level I believed that I was somehow provoking him. I tried so hard not to do anything, because if I did something the wrong way, to loud, not fast enough, I was gonna get it.
If we were in public and he could not hit me, he would pinch and squeeze me. This action causes lovely bruises in places no one can see.
You ever hear the saying, "I love you so much I would die for you"? Well he had his own twist he would tell me all the time. "I love you so much, I would kill you." His motto literally was, if I can't have you, no one can.




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