I knew as I sat there in the dark of my room, silent, with a new found emotion of horror and heartbreak on my face, in disbelief of the atrocious and hurtful things on the other end of the phone line, thinking to myself for the first time in ages, how badly I wanted to crawl into the arms of my parents. As if I had been a daughter who was married off and isolated from home, unable to return.
I felt alone. I felt truly alone in this world.
No one to run to, as no one wanted this relationship to live, and I just couldn’t bear the heartbreak of telling the people who loved me most, how badly I was being treated. There were no bruises on my body, but if I showed you my mind and what was left of my heart, you’d see nothing but black and blueness. I knew, when I cried to myself without a sound coming out, thinking what on earth was I doing to my mother and father’s precious daughter?
I knew when I was at a dead end with no where to turn, because this person made me fear a scary world where no one would love me more than my parents.
I knew, when the person in the body of the one I loved, truly was no longer there. Unrecognizable, heartless, unresponsive, consciously killing me in front of my eyes, even lies no longer covered, just out in the open, for me to decide if I still wanted to play the game or have out.
I knew when this person was shamelessly asking me to be lightyears less than I am worthy of and deserve to be, for the convenience and comfort of their needs.
I knew when I would be sent crying, gasping for air, and sprawling around clenching my chest from what I couldn’t differentiate: was a death of a heartbreak or hyperventilation.
I knew when the imagery of how I saw my relationship was of me being dragged by chains binding my wrists, scrapping my wounded body and face on the cement road of a long path with no end, with my controller only stopping to turn back at the moments of my near death, just to replenish me with enough love to sustain me for another mile of blood-smearing trails before the next time he’d be loving again.
I knew when I had woken up from another months of a dream, realizing I was doing everything I said I wouldn’t do: still begging and doing all that I could; researching, improving myself, buying gifts, and extensive care to prove my love to the one who had left and returned from betraying me as if I was the one who committed a crime to be punished for. A crime of loving someone more than I loved myself.
I knew when everything I was convinced of being crazy for suspecting, kept surfacing as true, over and over, with no remorse. Just a simple chuckle of being caught.
I knew when I realized I was holding onto my own suffering; my own inflicter.
I knew when I saw this person for absolutely all that they are; always was, and may always be for as long as I am still here to enable them to be.
And lastly, I knew to leave when I no longer cried. Nothing. There was nothing. Nothing left of me to give. Nothing left to blame myself for. Nothing left to hold. Not anger. Not love. Not wishes of misfortune. Not happiness.
All I wanted was to run. Run, to who knows where, as long as it was far away from here.
This is when I knew to leave. It took nearly 7 years. 7 years of what I will accept as built me.
I pray that you have the strength and courage to know when it is time to leave. ❤ And even through it all, I still pray to only find forgiveness in my heart.