March 08, 2020

Content warning: self-harm, abuse

I love him; I don’t love him… I played this mind game over and over as I watch the clock strike five in the morning. I looked at my husband, the man whom I left everything to be with because we both thought this passionate love would always burn…strong and fiery. This morning I saw the last remains of our love die down to ashes as I pack my bags and quietly left. No last kisses or goodbyes. I JUST LEFT. Tiptoeing outside, the morning breeze outside gave me a rush of hope for the future. I did not have any cash except the train fare to a new city and finally to a new life.

The railway station was about two miles away; I had plenty of time to reflect on my life as I walked nonchalantly on the quiet highway. Five years of repeating the same cycle over and over until I eventually found myself jumping from this Ferris wheel. It was always the same ride: happy golden days followed by arrays of storm. I could count the few sunny days for I knew that a storm was behind the sun and no umbrella of mine could shade me or us. Careful not to tread into the dark clouds, I had played the good wife who would try very hard to shelter this relationship from the tempest rising. For three years and eight months, I never saw myself as a victim of emotional abuse or saw him as the abuser. I never knew why I was so obsessed trying to please him and make him happy which in the end, never lasted long. But what could a naïve girl know when this was her first relationship…perhaps I had delved into reading too many sweet romantic love stories that always had a happy ending. I wanted the same story to be mine when I first met him and he made it damn sure to convince me that he was the one. So damn sure that I chose to cut ties with my family since my parents were not convinced enough that he was the right person.

The night before I finally left, we got into another verbal fight (nothing new) then it escalated to a physical fight. There were times when he hit me in anger in the past but I would keep telling myself that it was my fault in the first place and I deserved it. Wait! No! He made sure that it was my fault always…any mistakes, it became my fault and I had to fix it. Fixing was never easy: he always made sure I got very miserable and was literally begging and crying for him to forgive me. I still recall once when I had to use the blade to hurt myself so he would talk to me and forgive me for faults which were his, I never imagined I would stoop this low just to fix our constant fights. I finally told myself it was over when he nearly choked me with his big hands, I bit into his fingers and he pulled away. Scared he might hurt me more; I grabbed a blanket, locked myself outside on the porch, and waited till he was asleep. I never slept, I packed all that I could and waited for morning.

It was strange how I had no feeling of guilt this time, something inside me told me it was enough. It dawned upon me that I was not happy in this relationship, in the man who looked very promising at the initial state of our marriage. The man I fell in love with was not the same person, he had finally taken off his mask and this was him. I knew he would never change because he never did after so many encouragements and tears; he was contented being the narcissist. I could not wait till morning for strange enough, I had a warm good feeling about the future. 

The sound of a train approaching jolted my wandering thoughts but now I was more excited about the unmapped journey ahead. I rushed to the ticket counter although I had ample time before my husband woke up. I had texted my best friend last night about my decision, she was terribly proud of me…sometimes I wished I had listened to her sooner when she talked me into getting out of my misery. At long last, here I was doing something for myself after all those years of unsuccessfully trying to make him happy. All those years, I had lost myself forgetting what it truly meant to be happy, how good it felt to laugh genuinely and merrily.

After half an hour, my train finally arrived at the platform. Taking a good deep breath, I looked back at the grim life I was finally leaving and boarded the train. I had no regrets, no remorse only a surge of optimistic energy about the life ahead of me. My phone buzzed; a message from him: “WHERE THE HELL ARE YOU? I NEED MY BREAKFAST!” I stared at my phone choosing my words carefully.  

No, I did not think over what I had to write back. “GOODBYE AND MOVE ON. I AM GOING TO LIVE MY LIFE NOW THAT YOU ARE NOT IN MY WAY.” I pushed the send button with a sense of achievement, never felt so confident after years of living under his shadow. Immediately, he sent multiple threat messages which I never opened them and then he blocked me which was not something new. He thought he’d play the guilt game but this time, he had no clue I was not coming back to apologize for his mistakes.

Plugging in my earphones I played a victory song to match my mood and soon drifted off to sleep watching the stationary objects move outside my window. A call from my best friend woke me up, my destination was near. Last, I stepped out of the train feeling a surge of freedom with every step; my friend was impatiently waiting for she had been keeping a huge surprise from me in her apartment.

Outside her door, she handed me the keys asking me to go ahead and open it. I expected a prank as she was quite fond of them but this…

I opened the door to see the teary eyes of my mom and dad waiting to embrace me. It almost felt unreal after five very long years; I could not believe my eyes. I stood fixed while they both hugged me tightly and we found ourselves repeatedly saying sorry over loud outburst of tears. My friend had told them everything last night; right away they took the plane and reached an hour before I did. My spirits were uplifted to its zenith height knowing I had gained my family back.

I ultimately was able to let go of the man I used to love, cut off the weighing negative impact he had over my life. My wedding ring which I still use is a reminder every day of my strength to walk out of a relationship that was toxic for my mental health. As for the story of my husband, the aftermath…we will save that for another time.