initiation

my initiation into the world of domestic violence occured 20 years ago. i can still see the chaos as if it happened only yesterday. but then again, it's only been a year and 3 months since the last eyewitness to a breaking spree that was of course, my fault. one restraining order later, and i will not be the cause of them anymore.

the tile was cool against my body. the kitchen floor became my best friend that night offering it's unfailing support. it cradled me in my fetal position, while all i could do was sob and cry as if a death had occurred. and it did. that was the first time a piece of me died.

how do you pick up a refrigerator that is lying on its side? i had no idea. but i tried. and tried. to this day i can't remember how the damn thing ended upright again. and where were the black garbage bags? every room in the house had been hit. i just wanted to get it all cleaned up and back to normal.

glass, clothes, overturned beds, broken dresser drawers, collectibles from shelves, shelves, pictures. the mess seemed endless and i wasn't sure i had enough of the leaf size bags to contain it all. and where was he? oh yeah, a bar somewhere calling and telling me he was going to **** a woman. i cried and begged him to come home.

of course he came home, drunk. by then life had been set back to a pre-damage state. but was it really? maybe for him, but i will bear the imprints of his carnage for the rest of my life. he just wanted to sleep. and don't i know if i just left him alone and shut my mouth i wouldn't have pushed him to do it. i hurt his feelings. sorry....