Endings

The Night That Wouldn't End
Drifted in on a breeze,
Innocent-appearing as the scattered tufts of cotton from the cottonwood trees
That came with it.
Pure white as snow,
Brought thoughts of new beginnings
And joyful times
Until it started...

Snapshot after snapshot of a world
Too hard to accept
Flashing, leaving my sight compromised
With white spots and haze over my field of vision.
Snapshots that brought me to my knees
As I realized their truth:
he raped me
And all the air was sucked out of the room,
Like losing cabin pressure at 30,000 feet.
There was no longer the luxury of trying to

Hide from it;
Pretend it happened
to someone else;
Act like it wasn't shredding
my heart as it ripped me
apart piece by piece.

Pure white now mixed with red
Because sometimes art imitates reality,
And my reality was bleeding heavily over my will to live.
To live meant giving something up
Something I cherished --
him.
Golden Boy with a sweetness of his own.
He didn't drift in on a breeze.
He walked in, took my hand, and led me
Into his basement,
Into his room,
Into his bed,
Where I learned the meaning of pain...
Physical, so strong I felt like I was going to snap like a twig,
Wooden splinters puncturing my lungs as I struggled to breathe.
Mental, the despondent thinking and questioning of
Why was I being punished?
What had I done?
And emotional.
Maybe the most important,
I felt damaged beyond words,

Devastated,
Fallen,
Lost

In what was now a blizzard of white and red,
Neverending.
So I decided to end it
Quietly
Without anyone knowing.

I said my goodbyes and began
The Night That Wouldn't End
By staring into the dark for an hour,
Searching for something there --
But not help, because I could have
Called someone and I chose not to.
Maybe permission?
Killing myself - I'm so tired of euphemisms - was such a massive
Attempt to erase the problem.
Not solve it.
Erase it, blot it out,
forget about his hands,
His body, haunting me day and night.

So I waited for a sign,
But none came.
No one broke into my silent reverie to say don't do it!
Nothing reached out with whispers of hope,
Reminders that life was worth living.
Nothing...
Except a growing realization that
I am stubborn
And I was tired of hurting myself every time that I, as messenger, remembered something that he, as abuser, did to hurt me.
Tired of that phrase "he hurt me"
When it didn't satisfactorily describe the pain he inflicted.
He raped me
He cut me
He destroyed me
A L M O S T
I was NOT going to continue doing his job for him
No more scissors
Or blades
Or pills to deaden everything
(verging on the literal)

I was S T R O N G E R than that,
Even as I lost my way and waited for the right moment
For it all to be over.
All good things must come to an end...
But what about bad ones? Could they end?
I wasn't around him anymore.
That had ended,
But his hold on me was
As strong as ever,
Lurking in the shadows
With an iron grip that threatened to break my arm
If I fought it.

So, feeling stubborn now,
I paused
As a memory surfaced from when I was a little girl:
A Chinese finger puzzle.
Impossible to free myself until

I
Stopped
Struggling.

Could it be that simple?
Highly doubtful, nothing ever is...
But maybe some truth, anyway:
Don't fight it so hard --
The sights
and sounds
and smells
and tastes
and touch
That make up his world.
Stop struggling.
Let the pain wash over me
Like a powerful waterfall
Threatening to knock me down
But with beautiful greenery on the other side.
Could there be an "other side" of abuse?
A reward for getting through,
Or maybe just an acknowledgement
There is still beauty in this world...
Blue skies, puffy white clouds, brilliant sun glinting off the water,
Blinding me to the struggle I was just in.
Hope
Wrapped up in a picturesque scene
Where I can rest,

Still here,
Still trying,
Still alive.

Embracing The Day That Almost Didn't Come