He was such a handsome man, with light brown eyes and a smile that would light up a room…it surely lit up my whole life. I loved him so fast, there was nothing to hate about him. I must admit that a part of me felt lucky to be with him…he only ever dated the hot girls when we were back in college. I felt validated just by being with him.
Within a month he asked if we could move in together, how could I have said no? I thought this was our way to get even closer, I was already naming our children in my head. It felt like the next logical step to take. I was 23 and felt ready to take it to the next level.
He was romantic…he made breakfast for me, egg omelets with I LOVE U carved on them. Looking back, that was really corny, but I was over the moon. I kept asking myself, how could I have been so lucky. He was perfect and he loved me. He made romantic dinners which we ate by the balcony, talking and looking into each other’s eyes, under the stars.
Every evening, we would watch the sunset together, he loved the Cape Town sunsets. He bought me gifts and pampered me with so much love. I would get a kiss every morning when he left for work and I would be welcomed with a warm bath and a foot massage. He was everything I could have ever dreamt of and he was mine.
Until…one day. We argued and I thought it was normal, couples fight and make up all the time. I went to bed after and I thought we would deal with it the next day. He also came to bed, but we slept with our backs turned against each other. No cuddling or romance that night…
Around midnight, I woke up with a start. I felt pain on my face, someone had slapped me in my sleep. Drowsy with sleep, I did not understand at first what was going on. Was I dreaming? But it felt so real, so painful…I opened my eyes and saw him (my beautiful man), hovering over me on the bed, his face transformed from the beautiful one I was used to; his smile was gone and my favorite light brown eyes looked dark and ominous. I winced and held my cheek where he had slapped the sleep out of me and asked with all the innocence in the world “what’s going on, why did you hit me?” It was as if he could not hear me, he was screaming some words at me. In my confused state, I could not comprehend any of it. Another slap followed and that is when I realized he meant business, so I tried to get up and out of that bed. Slaps turned into fists and I started screaming because clearly, this man was on a mission to harm me.
I managed to get out of the room we slept in and ran into the adjoining room heading for the door. He was right behind me, that is when I realised he wanted to seriously hurt me. Gone was the man I thought I knew. He was replaced by some violent replica of him, who was currently kicking and shoving me into the wall. Why was no one coming to my rescue? I could hear myself screaming, why was no one coming to see what was going on? I opened the front door and ran outside to the security man of the complex we lived in. He followed me outside and caught up with me. Like literally ran after me. Now, I was being beaten for running outside. At least people finally came out to see what was going on because at that point I was crying to save my life. I could hear people asking him what was going on and he was telling them to mind their own business. Finally, I felt his weight off me, someone had stopped him. It all felt unreal, I was still sleeping and this was just a nightmare. He wouldn’t do that to me.
Meanwhile, I felt like I was no longer there at the scene. It felt like I was not in my body and I was observing all this as an outsider. I had thoughts running through my mind at a crazy speed, trying to make sense of it. How could someone so loving, gentle and romantic turn against me in such a violent manner? How could the love I know he was capable of showing disappear and be replaced with this hatred? Was the love even real or I had imagined it? How could he look at me like he didn’t know me? How could he find it ok to hurt me the way he just did? I heard my mother’s voice in my head saying “my daughter, never move in with a man before marriage“, was this my punishment? I could never forgive him, I told myself. NEVER…
It is a thin line between love & hate.
Day 10 Blogtember Challenge