Never Again

TW: this story is based around a relationship containing domestic abuse.

He gripped my wrist, tighter this time than he has in the past, 

“How many times do I have to ask you, Dana?!” He yelled, eyes so wide and bloodshot, they looked like they could pop out at any time and land in the glass of water I was trying to hold in my left hand. “Where were you, and why were you out so late?”

I could smell every little bit of alcohol as each word was leaving his mouth, and I just kept telling myself I’ve dealt with this before, and I can do it again. 

“I already told you, Peter,” I raised my voice trying to unleash my wrist from the venus flytrap-like grasp he had around it, “I was out with the girls; I’ve been doing this every Friday night for the past two years we have been together,” I let out a sigh, as I looked at the red ring around my wrist and walked away to go to the bedroom. 

“Hey!” he screamed at my back as I walked away from him. I felt the same shivers run up and down the back of my spine as I did from the last time he got angry at me for being out “way past my curfew.” I didn’t realize that when I was in a relationship as a thirty-five year old that I would have a curfew; I wish someone told me that ahead of time. “Did I say I was done here?” he asked, still raising his voice. I refused to look at him, but I know if I did, I would see the veins from his neck protruding out, and his face would turn into that maniacal Joker smile because he knew he had control over me. 

“You were out with John last night, weren’t you!” he yelled out, but it wasn’t an angry yell, it was more of a cry-for-help yell, like he was in distress and was about to have a mental breakdown at any minute. I rolled my eyes, because yet again, this was something I wasn’t unfamiliar with. He always went from super angry at me, calling me every bad name in the book, to crying uncontrollably saying how he can’t lose me because I’m the “only one for him” and we were “soulmates.” 

I rolled my eyes before turning around to meet his gaze with mine. His eyes were already glossy and I could tell the intense crying was going to happen any minute, “No, Peter,” I said trying to talk to him like I would a child I was trying to calm down mid tantrum, “I already told you I was out with the girls; Grace and Megan, that’s it, and you know I haven’t spoken to John in at least six months,” I said raising my finger to him, but then quickly putting it down because I knew I wasn’t in control; I never was. 

“I just can’t lose you, Dana,” he held his pathetic face in his hands and started crying, “I can’t!”

I yearned so badly to yell at him to stop acting like a little baby, but the good person inside of me couldn’t do it. Sometimes I really hated my heart for being too big; why couldn’t I have had one the size of The Grinch?

“You aren’t going to lose me,” I said, tearing up, because I had this weakness in me called empathy. It can be great, until it becomes awful and I start feeling bad for people that I shouldn’t. “I already told you I won’t leave you; I can’t leave you,” Putting the glass of water down that I knew I wouldn’t get to drink, I pulled his hands away from his face and held them as I felt them tremble, soaked in tears. 

He yanked his hands away from me and pulled me in close to his chest as I felt his heart beating so fast you’d think he just ran the marathon. As he let go he cupped my face and gently kissed me. I never understood how I still felt butterflies as if it was the first time he ever kissed me. Even in moments when he was the meanest person to me, when he was affectionate, he was the sweetest guy and I always found myself falling for him all over again. 

“I love you, Dana,” he said, wiping the tears from his eyes, “Can we please go to bed?” He asked sniffling, letting out a small smile. 

“Tell him no, Dana,” I could hear a voice in my head saying, “You know he’s going to do this same exact thing next time, and you’ll be back at square one; it happens all the time.” I felt like I was in a cartoon where they have the little animated angel on one shoulder telling you what you should do, while having the devil on the other whispering to you, convincing you not to listen to the angel. Well, listening to the angel was not on my agenda, not yet at least. Oh, Lucifer, you won another battle. 

“Yeah, love,” I said, “I’m getting tired anyways,” I let out a heavy sigh and walked past him to go upstairs to the bedroom. 

“Dana!” He called out, making me jump. He didn’t even say it in an angry way, but my brain has been programmed to be on high alert whenever he raised his voice with me because I didn’t know whether to expect a slap across my face, or him practically yanking my arm out of its socket while he screamed slurs at me. 

I shook off the discomfort I felt in that moment and turned around with a forced smile on my face, “Yes, Peter?”

“What do you think you’re doing?” He raised his hands in the air as if I left a huge mess and was being asked why I was leaving before cleaning it up. 

“What do you mean?” I raised an eyebrow looking around the room, “I’m going to bed?” A chuckle left my mouth, which I quickly regretted not knowing how he’d react to me laughing while he was trying to be serious. 

“Not without me, you’re not!” His straight face immediately turned into a huge grinning smile and he ran quickly towards me throwing his arm around my shoulder pulling me into a side hug as we walked together upstairs to bed. 

As we made it to the bedroom, I felt so fatigued both mentally and physically, I just wanted to get out of my clothes and into my pajamas so I could try to have a peaceful sleep next to Jekyll and Hyde. Before I was even able to raise my hands to lift my shirt off, Peter came from behind and placed his hands on my hips spinning me around to face him. Facing him, there was just silence between us, you could hear a pin drop. He stared into my hazel eyes and moved his gaze down to my lips that barely had any lipstick left on them by the end of the day. He bit his lip and moved his eyes lower down my body, grinning. He reached his hands underneath my top and lightly grazed his hands across my tummy, sticking his finger in my belly button trying to tickle me; he knew that was a sensitive spot for me. I let out a giggle, trying to hold back from really laughing, because I was honestly not in the mood for him to try and get back into my good graces like he always seemed to do without fail. He slowly lifted my shirt off and took his finger softly dragging it up and down my porcelain skin making me shiver. I was the type of person to always go along with whatever he did to me because I aim to please. So, if he wanted to touch me, I’d let him do it, even if I wasn’t in the mood for it, and this was one of those instances where I really wasn’t in the mood for it. 

The moments in between him taking my top off to me laying in bed naked with him were all a complete blur. I don’t know how he ended up on top of me, and I didn’t want to give into him because I knew the same toxic cycle was going to continue, but I couldn’t help it. It always went the same way. He would find something to get pissed at me about, call me a bunch of names that I tried to forget, apologize, say he loved me, and then we’d end up in bed together. I was used to it, so I just gave into him and we went through the night, our bodies intertwined together, feeling each other’s sweat and hearing sounds of pleasure until we both passed out.

I didn’t know what time it was, but I could tell not much time had passed because as I looked out the window it was still pitch dark. I slowly turned my head to my right and saw Peter passed out on his back, the blankets barely covering his naked body. I hogged them because I was always cold. My cellphone was on the nightstand on his side of the bed; he didn’t trust it on my side because he always thought I was texting some guy, so he felt safer with it near him. He wasn’t typically a heavy sleeper, but after the night we had, I knew he would be passed out until the morning. I quietly got up, and wrapped a robe around me. It was dark, but I used the moonlight coming in from the window to help guide me to the other side of the room so I could grab my phone and see what time it was. Our hardwood floors were super creaky, even with my petite body creeping around, they still made way too much noise. As I made my way to the nightstand, I slowly and gracefully reached to grab my phone, but before I could even touch it, Peter’s eyes shot open and his hand forcefully beat mine and slammed on top of my cell phone. He rose out of bed faster than someone who realized they were late for the first day of their new job. 

“What the HELL do you think you’re doing, Dana!” He screamed so loud, I was thankful we didn’t live in an apartment with neighbors right on top of us or else they probably would’ve wanted to call the cops.   

“I’m not doing anything, Peter!” I yelled back at him, trying to catch my breath after his crazy cat-like reflex startled the life out of me, “I just wanted to see what time it was.”

“Oh yeah?” He asked, showing all his teeth, cackling, “You wanted to see what time it was, did you? Or maybe, just maybe, you wanted to text one of your little guy friends you like to hookup with in the middle of the night while I’m sitting at home waiting for you to get home,” his voice grew louder and he started waving my phone in front of my face dangling it like it was a piece of candy and I was a kid wanting to grab it, but it gets snatched away from me. 

“You are honestly beyond delusional, Peter, you really are,” I sarcastically laughed, shaking my head at the crazy accusations he was spewing out, “give me my phone, now,” I said assertively, which was something I wasn’t good at doing, but I have had enough of his controlling behavior.

“You want this?” he asked, once again swinging the phone in front of me as if he was going to hypnotize me with it, “Well, that’s too bad,” he walked over to our bedroom window, opened it and chucked my phone as I heard it slam against the pavement, probably smashed into a thousand pieces.

“Are you kidding me, right now?! That was my phone you just threw out the window!” I screamed holding my face in my hands running over to the window looking down at my completely destroyed phone as if it was some lifeless body just laying there. I turned back to face Peter and all he was doing was smiling, and I realized this was the Mr. Hyde that I had to live with. “You really have a problem, and I think you need to seek help,” I walked over to stand right in front of his face.

“You know what, Dana?” his head dipped down to the right as if he was actually putting thought into it, “I think you’re right; I do have a problem, and that problem is you,” he said, shoving me away from him pushing me onto the bed.

“I’m the problem?” I laughed getting myself off of the bed walking back to him, “I’m the problem?” I hit myself in the middle of the chest with my pointer finger, “No, I think you’re the problem, you narcissist,” I said hitting him in the middle of his chest, this time, with my finger.

He pushed me again harder this time to the point where my back hit the bed and I bounced up a little. Our mattress was very firm, because that’s how he liked it, so it did hurt a little.

“Shut up and don’t you even try to touch me, you little bitch,” he walked towards where I was hovering over me as I laid on the bed on my back, feeling defeated. Hearing him call me that, though, gave me a couple ounces of energy and I leaned up on my elbows staring up at him.”

“What did you call me?” I asked, my voice sounding tired and lifeless like I was at my wits end in a boss battle in one of my favorite video games.

He leaned his head down so our eyes met, “I called you a little bitch,” he said, taking his hand pushing me back down onto the bed as he walked away slamming the door behind him.

I felt weak, belittled, abused. I felt tears well up in my eyes and I just said to myself, “here we go again.” This time was different from the rest, though, because I was not going to let Peter be the dragon that bites my head off and spits it out like a delicious meal; I was done, in more ways than one. I struggled to get myself off of the bed, but I did, walking towards the door and swinging it open. I looked both ways and didn’t see Peter anyway, and I couldn’t hear him either. Did he leave the house? 

I walked down the stairs slowly,holding onto the banister, as it was still so dark and now I couldn’t even use my cellphone as a flashlight to help guide the way. As I reached the bottom of the staircase I heard a slight whimper sound coming from the kitchen. Of course, he was still here, I knew I wasn’t going to be that lucky. Once again, my empathy kicked in and it took all the force in the world to drag myself to the kitchen, when I knew that I should have made my way to the front door instead. As I stood in the front of the kitchen, I looked at Peter as both of his elbows were placed on the counter and his head sunk down low, his hands holding up his forehead. I cleared my throat to let him know I was there and he barely raised his head up high enough to look at me.

“I just wanted to let you know, Peter,” I said calmly and civilly, “that I am leaving tonight. I’m done. I can’t do this anymore,” I crossed my arms leaning up against the side of the wall.

“Wait, what?” He stood up straight and ran towards me, hands shaking, voice trembling, I could tell he was about to hyperventilate, “What do you mean you can’t do this anymore!” He shouted starting to cry, and that’s when the hyperventilating began. His breathing was totally off course and if he didn’t calm down any second he’d be passed out on the floor in front of me like he has in the past.

“I can’t, I really can’t,” I remained calm and didn’t give in to him. He had pulled this same act on me multiple times before and I was always there to take care of him and calm him down, but not this time. “You have degraded me; hurt me physically, emotionally and mentally, and I am telling you right now I. Am. Done,” I said slowly as if needing to spell it out for him. 

“But, Dana!” He cried out getting on his hands and knees in front of me, looking up at me while tears streamed down his eyes, “Please, Dana, please, I can’t lose you. I love you!” The crying continued, but I still wasn’t backing down.

“I’m sorry, Peter,” I said with very little remorse in my voice as I went to make my way towards the front door. 

I didn’t even look back at him. All I did was hear him screaming and crying for me to stop. “Please, Dana! I love you!” He wailed. 

I started crying. Walking away from him was the hardest decision I made in my life, but this wasn’t love; this was abuse in more ways than one. I stood in front of the front door and paused. I looked back at him and then once again at the door. This time, I listened to the angel on my shoulder and opened the door and walked out. I shook my head and said to myself, “never again.”