This was a therapeutic experimental piece, not the most literary story in the world, and maybe I'll come back to it some day, but for now, it's a step towards healing.
HIM
Her life ended when she met him. It was almost overnight and as
mysteriously as he had come to live in her apartment, her social life disappeared
and her friends vanished. They no longer asked if she’d be at their usual
hangouts or weekend activities, they knew the answer was no. The only real
problem was that they assumed it was because she was in love. As many people
often become lost in their relationships, they assumed she too had moved on
from her single friends lives, into the monotonies of couple life, Sunday
church, and couples outings. It wasn’t until a year or so later anyone realized
the truth.
*****
He saw her in the corridor, hoping that they had class together. She was
young, ambitious, and had the air of optimistic naivety to her. She was exactly
what he was looking for in a girl - naïve. She sat in the front row, as many
young, ambitious girls do, not noticing him at all. He was tall, fat, older,
and had a beard that made him look even older
or as he liked to think, sophisticated - absolutely nothing she was looking
for in a guy. He knew this would be true, and it was confirmed on the first day
that they spoke. She politely responded to his conversation, but immediately
forgot him as she went about her day. She wasn’t attracted to him, and more
importantly wasn’t interested in being in any sort of relationship, it was time
to focus on her studies and nothing more.
Sooner or later, they crossed paths on a regular basis, he made sure of
that. At the bus stop, he’d make small talk and joke about the class, anything
to have something to talk to her about. She thought he was interesting, and
slowly he became the type of guy she was looking for, he made sure of that too.
Somehow or another, due to a joke made in class, she owed him some sort
of baked sweet. Kind hearted, and not knowing the consequences of her niceness,
she laughed and agreed. Time went by and the baked sweet turned into a dinner
and then into a movie. She didn’t know what to think, but her new outlook on
dating permitted her to go to the movies, at least just once. She attempted to
look nice, but he made a rash comment on how it made her look bigger than she
was, and she never wore that sheer blue blouse again. But soon it wouldn’t
matter because he’d buy her the clothes she was to wear. She hated his clothes
and didn’t find him attractive either, but felt shallow not liking him merely
because he was overweight. After a comment from a pretty girl at work saying he
had a spectacular smile, she thought that she was being too judgmental and that
if her beautiful coworker could find him attractive then perhaps she should agree
to go out on more dates.
It wasn’t before too long that he had slowly become a permanent fixture
in her apartment, and even had his own half of the bedroom closet. She was a
simple girl and had simple things, but slowly he changed that. Providing a
leather sofa, a large television set, and other staples for a nice apartment,
things that, honestly, she cared nothing about. This was her first mistake - not
caring. It wasn’t that it didn’t bother her; it was merely that she didn’t have
time to care. Working at a restaurant in the evenings and on the weekends while
finishing her degree in business gave her little time to think about what her
living room looked like. She wanted to be a baker, because she loved cooking,
but was realistic enough to know that she would need a degree in business to at
least get her started with her own bakery or café in the future.
Despite not being allowed in her own kitchen while he cooked dinners
that were too extravagant for her taste buds and being ridiculed on her lack of
cooking skills, she held onto her dream of being a baker, making sweets that
everyone could enjoy, not fancy pastries that only rich assholes could afford.
It wasn’t that he didn’t like her cooking; it was that her cooking was too
simple. He had more elegant tastes
and although he was poor now, he had come from an upper class upbringing and
was quite spoiled. His older brother had destroyed the family business and left
him with only one antique Bentley that of course she wasn’t allowed to drive.
It didn’t take long to convince the young girl that if she loved him they would
get a joint account together, she was extremely against this and thus they had
their first fight. She had seen many couples destroyed over money arguments and
wasn’t thrilled about sharing her hard earned money with anyone, but she had no
real reasons not to open a shared account with him, and within a few weeks, he
had convinced her that she was being irrational and that what had happened to
others wouldn’t happen to them. Still, she kept her old account open with a
little bit of savings left in it, while her check now went into their shared
account at his “family” bank. She didn’t make all that much money but it was
double what he was making at his shitty internship. He had plans, big plans,
and all those plans took time to think up and organize, many of such hours were
spent while she was slaving away at work.
Not exactly knowing why, she found herself asking for more hours at work
and taking the maximum amount of hours possible at the University, including
joining an unnecessary study group for statistics that most of the time she
ended up basically teaching. She felt happy, and confused her obsession with
work and school as ambition, and not admitting the fact that it was merely
avoidance. She assumed that she didn’t want to be at home, merely because she
had never been a homebody, and not the truth that he was unbearable. He wasn’t
all too concerned as long as he knew where she was at all times, even enjoying
all of the time he had alone in her apartment to take up hobbies like building
car-models in her living room. And working in telecommunications he knew a
thing or two about computers and phones and was able to monitor most of what
she did and talked about, and as she had nothing to hide, he had nothing to
worry about, and so survived the relationship.
Things were even quite pleasant for a few months and the two seemed to
be getting along nicely. It was time to make sure she didn’t leave him, before
the magic of the first months together wore off and she became aware of her own
abilities and ambitions, leaving him behind with his thoughts and hobbies and
unfulfilled plans. So, he went to his father’s house and unlocked his safe and
took out the expensive engagement ring he’d had from previous failed relationships.
He went to his “family” jeweler and had the ring polished and re-dipped. He had
planned on asking her over the weekend when they were out, but instead he did
it that night. Popping the question in the living room in a very unromantic and
spontaneous way, surprising her and catching her completely off-guard. It
didn’t seem crazy to her that only after 3 months of dating that he would ask
her to marry her, they were in their last years of college and more and more
couples were getting married right after college. The sparkle of the ring
wasn’t what made her say yes, as much as the thought that someone actually
wanted to spend the rest of their life with her. She had already decided two
years before that she would probably die alone after the love of her life ran
away to California to be some sort of movie star.
Newly engaged, her life changed rapidly. People at work noticed her; men
who’d never spoken to her were now fascinated by her. Beautiful girls who never
gave her more than a short whim of gossip were now all over her asking
questions and commenting on the extremely expensive engagement ring. Being a
kind and non-materialistic girl she even allowed other girls to try it on and
look at it more closely. It wasn’t exactly her favorite piece of jewelry and it
tended to catch on her apron and even caused her to spill a tray in the kitchen
the first week wearing it. Distracted by the new attention and decisions she
had to make about the wedding, she never really contemplated whether it was
right or not. She just accepted it as part of her life and continued surviving.
The relationship was difficult and they disagreed on everything
concerning the wedding, including how much money should be spent on it and
where the reception would take place. It caused her a lot of stress and he
continuously made her feel as if it would be her fault if the wedding was tacky
and distasteful. It never occurred to her that she could simply move out of her
own apartment and leave him behind if she wasn’t completely happy; she just
assumed that relationships were hard and that you had to work at them. She also
started to enjoy parts of her new life, most of which had nothing to do with
him, but somehow were connected to him, even joining his Baptist church and making
friends with some of the church choir, most of which were in their 40s or 50s.
She enjoyed their company a lot and even joined a knitting group at the church
with her new friends; they were insightful and always pleasant. Not even I can
tell you how she found time between work, school, planning the wedding, and his
demands to take up knitting with these little old ladies, but she did. She even
went to church more often than he did, not missing a single Sunday all year;
well of course, until the incident.
One night she was with her study group in the library, teaching the last
chapters of statistics to her failing classmates in a final attempt to help
them pass their end of term exams, and her phone died. He had called and called
and left messages until her voicemail was full. She didn’t even realize the
time and when they finally wrapped up the last bits of chapter eleven, she
headed home. Arriving home to an irate boyfriend who had purposefully left the
dinner cold on the table, she was once again caught completely off-guard by his
behavior. He knew his routine well, and as he had many times before to others,
he made her feel responsible for his worrying and commented on his doubt about how
good a wife she would make, if she was so selfish that she couldn’t remember to
call and tell her fiancé that she’d be two hours late that night. She
apologized, honestly declaring that she hadn’t received his phone calls and
explaining that her phone had died. Although her apology was sincere, it wasn’t
enough for him, and he proceeded to make her feel awful for her mistake,
telling her she could make her own dinners and to not expect him to do anything
nice for her if she wasn’t going to be appreciative. She couldn’t take it
anymore and cried, feeling like a failure at life and a terrible girlfriend. Seeing
that he had succeeded in his desire to control her emotions and make her feel
bad for making him wait to eat, because of course he was hungry and wanting to
make a point had refused to merely eat before she got home, showing that he was
a thoughtful gentleman and that she was at fault for his anger, he didn’t raise
his hand that day. He saw that it wasn’t necessary, and he gave her a hug,
accepting her apology and forgiving her this
time.
Unaware of this type of behavior, unaware of all of the signs, unaware
of the intentions behind the words, and completely oblivious to the escalation
that would soon become a natural routine of actions, she went to bed, feeling
guilty for being such a horrible fiancé. She of course paid for this mistake in
other ways, but now that he knew he had more control over her, he was much
happier and friendlier. He even allowed her to bake some weekends, and praised
her rice pudding, even though he hated it. He became a bipolar mess, chastising
her when he felt the need for power, putting her down for fun, and then
showering her with praise and chocolates. He was having the time of his life,
and she was an absolute mess not knowing what to do to keep him calm.
She slowly came to hate their routines, she was no longer happy and
optimistic, and absolutely hated sharing the bathroom with him in the mornings,
despised shaving his disgusting back, and was exhausted from all of the
lecturing. But she didn’t know how to leave him; she didn’t know how easy it
was to end a relationship. Sometimes she would sit in the bathroom and set the
horribly gaudy engagement ring on the sink and think of ways to leave, to
escape and never come back, but the embarrassment of telling all of her family
and friends that the wedding was off was unbearable. And the reasons to leave
him weren’t big enough, weren’t important enough, were they? What would others think? Oh just because of a little fight you ended an engagement? He’s such a
wonderful man. He’s so nice to you, and buys you clothes. What more could you
want? That was the other problem, to everyone on the outside they were the
perfect couple. They were hard working, finishing their degrees, church-going
and the like, and as she was completely disconnected from her friends and
family, whom all had strongly disliked him, she felt stuck. She didn’t really
have anyone to call, and all of her “new” friends, or rather his friends that
they hung out with and went on couple activities with, would never understand.
She didn’t feel like bothering her girlfriend from work, and her only friend
left had moved out of town. She had no choice but to put the ring back on and
leave the only place she had to herself sometimes - the bathroom.
Even the bathroom became a dreadful place, he would get so upset if she
wasn’t happy and if she showed any signs of distance or leaving him he would
throw a fit like a child and lock himself in the bathroom. Occasionally showing
signs of suicide and making her feel guilty; she had lost a close friend at a
young age to suicide, and although he didn’t know that, he knew that this type
of manipulation really worked. She did everything she could to make him happy,
to bring him out of his depression, but it never worked, not until he was
completely satisfied. She was a marionette of emotions that he could provoke and
manipulate at any time.
One evening after criticizing the dinner she had made, she couldn’t take
it anymore and called him out on his meanness and manipulation, even taking a
stab at how disgusting he looked to her naked. She was so angry, she couldn’t
take it anymore and all of the anger built up inside her came bursting out. At
first she thought perhaps she had put an end to some of it, that taking a stand
would help and that he would change, but she didn’t realize that he was very
well aware of what he was doing, and was hoping for this moment, hoping for
this excuse, and in his silence he smacked her, knocking her onto the floor.
She looked up at him and he looked huge towering over her and his fat
stomach no longer looked disgusting, but instead looked dangerous and scary. He
looked like a beast and for the first time she felt as small as she really was.
She was weak and scared and didn’t know what to do, she laid there motionless,
as if time had stopped, and this memory stayed with her, frozen for eternity in
her mind. He was immediately mortified by his actions, all an act of course,
and he started crying, apologizing for what he had done. He cradled her in his
arms, but she wasn’t there, she was gone, in some other place, far far away in the dark cave her mind
created instantly to protect her from more harm. She held onto that fear, that
place, for what seemed like forever, but somehow he convinced her to forgive
him within a week. He said she’d pushed him too far and that it would never
happen again and that he loved her, and that was why her words had hurt him so
deeply, driving him to smack her. She admitted that she’d maybe been too harsh,
something he should have been apologizing for, but as the feeling of guilt had
been so deeply ingrained in her, she let it go. The moment passed and what is
known as the honeymoon phase commenced.
He showered her with love, respect, and gifts, and although the gifts
were new clothes that she was to wear, she felt better. She thought that maybe
they’d reached a good point in their relationship and that she’d gotten through
to him and that he had realized his anger issues and that he’d gone too far.
She was really truly convinced that it wasn’t going to happen again, and she was
happy for the most part. She lived with the fantasy that maybe it was going to
be okay, and she went back to church the following Sunday and sang louder than
anyone else in the choir, rejoicing for the wonderful change that had happened
in her fiancé. He went too, although he hadn’t been in awhile, but it was more
to erase his guilt, and feel as if it was out of his control, because God was
leading him down the right path. She continued to work, she studied harder,
portraying the image she wanted of her life, replaying this imaginary person in
her head, until she too was convinced it was real, but it would soon fade, as
the honeymoon phase always does.
She had to work an extra shift that week and was extremely exhausted,
she came home hoping to go to bed, but found him in the “mood”. She attempted
to show her exhaustion and merely get ready for bed, but he didn’t listen, and
he didn’t care, as always, his needs came first. She didn’t have it in her to
fight anymore and merely let things happen the way that they always did,
knowing that tomorrow morning she would be miserable at work. The hate
continued to grow inside her, but she ignored it. She became spiteful and
sometimes unpleasant to be around, her anger seeped out of her at work and she
wasn’t as friendly as she had been. Her friend at work noticed, and asked her
what was wrong. She just replied with a sigh and poor excuse about being worn
out from all the work and studying. The girl, knowing just what to do, invited
her to come over the following Friday and they could have a girls night.
Surprised by her answer, she agreed without asking her fiancé. When she arrived
home, she asked him if they had plans Friday and he said no, interested in her
new found interest in their schedule he asked why she needed to know. She told
him about her friend at work, and how she’d like to go, and astonished, he
agreed it would be good for her. It was worrying that he agreed so quickly, and
she had a bad feeling about it, but happy for the small freedom she had been
granted she didn’t question it.
The following weekend was wonderful, she stayed out extremely late at
her friends and they drank until very early into the morning. She had let her
fiancé know that she would stay there as to not drive drunk, and he didn’t
respond, expecting his anger and disapproval she enjoyed the time that she had
and slept on her friends couch. On the drive home that morning, her head was
pounding from an intense hangover, and she was anticipating the fight. The
fight came and went, the apologies came and went, and it was so routine at this
point, that she wasn’t phased by it anymore.
Motivated by the small bit of freedom she had had, she wanted more. She
made sure to stay a little bit after work just to chat with her friend,
extending her shifts by one hour or even more some nights, but as it was work
and she couldn’t “control” the time she was there, he never gave her any
trouble for it. Until one day he stopped by her work to find her outside on the
park bench chatting with her friend, discovering that she’d gotten off two
hours earlier, he was furious. He’d lost control and she was rebelling, he
could see the end in sight and he wasn’t about to let that happen, not again.
At the apartment they had a huge fight and slamming the door behind her
she left. She had already decided that she would call her friend from work and
ask her to stay there for awhile, knowing that she would probably not mind. The
phone call was interrupted by non-stop calls from him. Finally, she said she’d
explain later and answered his call. What
now? He calmly made some statement about how he wanted her to come home,
and she answered that that wasn’t possible and that she’d be back tomorrow
after they’d both calmed down. In the background she heard a glass shatter. What was that? He very softly said that
he’d accidentally dropped a glass while doing the dishes. She wasn’t convinced
as all the dishes were clean and realized that all of her belongings, all of
her life was in that apartment and knew fully what he was capable of doing. She
turned the car around and was going to go to her apartment to confront him and
hopefully save it from being destroyed by the demon that now occupied her
fiancé’s body. She opened the door and he was sitting on the couch as if
nothing had happened reading one of his magazines that she undoubtedly paid for
out of their joint account. You’re back
early. He said cattily. We need to
talk, she’d decided on the way there that this had to be the end, she just
couldn’t take it anymore. I came to give
you your ring back, she said, knowing that this would hurt him more. She
tossed it back to him and shut the door, but her victorious thoughts were
crudely interrupted by another glass smashing, but this time it smashed on the
door behind her. She opened it, ready for the fight, and she screamed at him.
What the hell was he thinking throwing things at her!?! His replies of
accidents and excuses were well rehearsed and they just made her angrier.
Finally she sat down outside, not knowing what to do; she wanted to leave but
was terrified he’d destroy her apartment. He came outside after a bit and sat
down next to her with the ring in his hand. She looked at him, tears in her
eyes, disgusted with who she was at that moment, and furious at him for making
her that way. He handed the ring back to her, it’s not over, we just have some communication issues we need to get
through, he looked sadly into her eyes, and kissed her forehead. They
apologized and she ignored the phone call from her friend as they talked
through what was bothering them. Again, she forgave him, he hadn’t hit her
after all, it was just a broken glass and she had provoked him, hadn’t she?
There was another honeymoon phase that lasted long enough for them to
pick a reception venue for the wedding and even take a weekend trip together.
She was happy again, living in her imagination, hoping that it would stay this
way for good this time, and convinced that he really wouldn’t hit her again,
since obviously he was more in control of his anger now. They’d dealt with the
last big fight in a productive and healthy way, or so she thought. She told her
friend that she had been stupid to think that she needed to stay with her and
that they just needed to work things out. Her friend was concerned, but let it
go as the girl became more delightful at work and seemed to be happier.
Naturally, things went back to how they’d been. She even gave him his
ring back two more times, but somehow he convinced her it wasn’t over, and not
knowing that it doesn’t take two to make the decision to end a relationship,
she couldn’t see a way out. He began to see her slowly slipping away and his
grip tightened and his ridicule and hateful comments were sprinkled within each
conversation. He became more aggressive and she cowered in fear that he’d hit
her again, so she became more submissive. The more control he had, the nicer he
was, and although she wasn’t aware of it, her subconscious knew this and merely
gave him complete control over her life, down to what she wore to church every
Sunday and what their plans were each weekend. She didn’t even know what kind
of music she liked anymore, she didn’t know what food she wanted to eat, and
she didn’t even know that it was happening. She was completely unaware, as
children are when they think they are making a decision, but really they are
choosing between two things that their parents want them to do. The small
decisions that she did make had nothing to do with her actual preferences and
soon she lost sight of them entirely. If only she’d have known that it only takes
one to end a relationship, and that she could easily leave him if she could
just admit that she needed help from others, and admit the truth about her
relationship. But she couldn’t do that, she was too ashamed, how could such an intelligent girl allow
something like this to happen to her?
She graduated and had an opportunity to go to a great culinary school
that would actually help her to become what she truly desired, and he found a
school nearby where he could get a Masters in whatever it was he fancied at the
time so that they could stay together. She saw her way out; she saw the light
at the end of the tunnel and had an escape plan. She would move out first, take
her things, and go somewhere else, somewhere far away. She didn’t exactly know
where, but she’d figure it out later. She turned down her dream school
opportunity in order to get away from him, but it was too late.
He found the email, he overheard the phone call, and he knew her plan.
He was so angry that when he confronted her he was already blind with fury, you lied to me! You lied to me! You said you
loved me and you never loved me you lying bitch! Before he realized that he
was suffocating her, holding her against the wall by the neck with both hands,
she’d already slipped away through his fingers, into the dark black cave her
mind had created to protect her, and that’s where she stayed, because she never
did come back from the darkness.
Raelynne M. Hale
9th February 2014
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