I couldn’t stop thinking about how much I wanted to kiss Nick. I fell asleep that night still pondering it. As I awoke the next morning, my mind still in a dream, I felt like I was in a daze. The sun was shining through a crack in the curtain and I started moving around a bit under the covers. Coming out of the dream, I felt so in love. The dream had been about kissing Nick last night and how amazing it would have felt. The satin feeling of his lips against mine and the way he pulled away so gently, leaving me desiring more. His soft touch on my face and warm embrace, giving me the affection that I was hungry for. Envisioning a lavish buffet of Nick’s kisses brought such peace to my chaotic heart. The need to control everything vanished, and I just yearned for his loving arms to envelop me.
As I continued to roll around beneath the sheets, my leg grazed another leg that was much hairier than my own. I soon remembered that I was not alone, and snapped back into the reality that I was a married woman. My body tumbled all the way over into a position where I could gaze upon the man beside me. The muscles in my face scrunched up in disgust as I eyed the masculine being up and down.
His messy light brown mane draped over his pillow and his beer gut moved up and down as he took breaths and it appalled me. What did I ever see in this man? Was it purely his physical appearance that turned me off, or something else? Given, over the years, his treatment of me had declined as well as how I cared for myself. Or was it the other way around? I no longer was attracted to him emotionally, physically, or spiritually, and I began to question if I ever had been.
My relationship with myself had dwindled as he dug my grave deeper and deeper. I became a shell of a person and no longer had a personality outside of anyone else. I seemed to mimic other people in conversations like a chameleon. Growing up, I had been discouraged from speaking my mind as a woman and told to keep quiet. Stuffing down my feelings became a protective mechanism and food became a symbol for all the emotions I wasn’t dealing with. There were days I just couldn’t even look at it, and other days, all I wanted to do was eat.
I looked back at Jim as he began to stir. “Hey, why don’t I smell any coffee yet?” he sternly asked as he rubbed his eyes before fully opening them. His glare came into full view as I shivered inside at his alarming morning anger. This behavior was not unusual for Jim, in fact, it was precisely the norm. I had grown used to it and it felt familiar. My own father hadn’t been much different, but I never really thought about there being another way. It was the only life I knew, but since meeting Nick, I finally had the sense that I had other options. I had choices. That word, choices, it made me quiver because it seemed so foreign to me. After a lifetime of listening to other people on what to do, how to act, and who to be, I had taken that word from my own life so long ago that I didn’t even know what kind of changes having choices could bring me. All I knew is that I wanted to find that out no matter what.
Without saying a word, I left the bed at his request to make coffee. I was Cinderella, once again, and Jim was like my stepmother. His demands were always my responsibility, my fault, and my everything. He gave me his baggage to claim and I was left with nothing for myself. Sometimes I wondered why I felt so unfulfilled in my life, and whenever I had brought up my concerns with my husband, he would say I was crazy and couldn’t help me. Ironically, my parents used to call me crazy too, so maybe I was. If everyone in my life thought I was crazy, maybe it was true.
I decided to make a coffee pod because it would be faster than making a whole pot. I took a pod from the cabinet and put it into the coffee maker closing it firmly. I doubled-checked that there was enough water in the reservoir and turned the machine on to make an eight ounce cup. As I waited, I began staring out the window and daydreaming about Nick. The family of deer often came out at this time of day, but they were no where to be found at the moment. The sound of the coffee maker in the background sounded so distant, yet, I also couldn’t hear the cup filling up.
A worried look struck across my face as I broke out of my fantasy and spun around in haste. I never put a cup underneath the dispenser so the coffee was spilling everywhere! How could I be so stupid?! I should have known better! I am such an idiot! The negative self-talk flowed through my brain with ease as it was the only way I knew how to talk to myself. I heard stomping footsteps coming down the hall from the bedroom.
“What the Hell?! You fucking bitch! What did you do to my kitchen?!” Jim bellowed in a rage. His eyes widened when he saw the coffee spilling all over the floor. I placed my hand up above my head to protect myself, but his strong hand grabbed my wrist pulling my hand behind my back. He brought his face up close to mine and shoved me up against the counter with the force of his body. I could feel the countertop stabbing into my arm as he trapped it with all his might. The pressure was becoming more than I could bear, so I took my other hand and tried to slap his face. Before I was even close, he grabbed my wrist again with his other hand pinning it along with the first. “Ha, ha. You think you’re so clever,” the tone of his voice was almost evil with his sly smile. He went on, “You did that on purpose, to teach me a lesson. Well, let me teach you a lesson.”
I felt him put both my small wrists into one of his hands and in one quick swooped, his free hand was around my neck, it’s grip growing tighter and tighter. I tried breathing, but it became more difficult with every second. “You do nothing for me, but hold me back. You never do anything right!” he screamed. He held on for just a bit more, almost until I was out of air, when he finally released me. My hands shot up to rub my neck where he had straggled me. He always tried to let go before he would leave any noticeable marks, and when he did, he forced me to wear a turtleneck, even in the summer.
“Now, clean this up, you fucking idiot!” his voice was even louder than before. He thumped away and left me almost breathless to clean up the coffee mess and my emotions.
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