I was my own being when I was 17, a senior in high school, my own person, my own soul. I wanted to figure life out all on my own. I had too much going on to have a relationship. I wanted to be with my friends. I was not into long distance, I was not into settling down.
But then he said “I love you.”
I started to accept the distance because I was proud of what he was becoming. I questioned the reason behind his coming home so abruptly. I questioned the job he wanted here at home. I wanted to be with my friends, not his. I wanted to be with my family, not his.
But then he said “I love you.”
I accepted the half assed lies about why he came home. I accepted the new job because he said he was happy. I started to love his friends and family. I wondered why he wanted to stay at a job that treated him so poorly. I wondered why he became so obsessed with the gym. I wondered where all the anger was coming from. I wanted him away from that job.
But then he said “I love you.”
I was persuaded into his new work out method- he was doing it “the right way.” I stopped questioning him to avoid the inevitable argument. I did not want to watch him deteriorate. I did not want my grades to slip anymore. I wanted to focus on theatre.
But then he said “I love you.”
I accepted my grades and called it “senioritis.” I did not mean to miss his calls during rehearsals. I could not pay for his gas, food, and drug habit. I did not want to cry all the time. I did not want to watch my friends have fun without me. I wanted to hang out with my guy friends. I wanted to enjoy being a senior.
But then he said “I love you.”
I cried every few days, and blamed my girly emotions. I paid for his gas and food because he had “no money” because he spent it on drugs. I lost guy friends because I was “respecting him.” I wanted to take in the fact that I was nominated to homecoming queen. I wanted to love having the lead role in the musical I’d been waiting on for years. I didn’t want him to watch my rehearsals. I wanted to leave him.
But then he said “I love you.”
I let him watch my rehearsals because he said “I just think you’re so great.” I knew he was making sure I didn’t talk to any males. Having the lead role is stressful enough on its own- I could not enjoy it. I got sick during homecoming, and lost homecoming queen. I did not want to go to his house after the dance, I wanted to see my friends and then go to sleep. I did not want to see him drink himself into a stupor and then yell at me for needing to rest.
But then he said “I love you.”
I stayed out too late and got sicker. I helped him to bed after he threw up. I accepted blame for needing to rest, after all, it was my last homecoming. I did not want to see his rage grow with every passing hour. I did not want to be blamed for things that I had nothing to do with. I did not want to be a part of the drama when other girls told him I had cheated (even though I hadn’t).
But then he said “I love you.”
I blamed his rage on everything but the actual reason. I blamed myself for not being able to help him. I confronted girl after girl that got into my business. I did not want to fall apart. I did not want to lose every friend I had for him. I did not want to do it anymore.
But then he said “I love you.”
I fell apart. I lost my friends. I kept going. Finally, I gained enough courage to leave- despite my fear. I did not want to see him almost kill himself. I did not want to be blamed for that. I wanted to stay out of the relationship even though he put himself in the hospital.
But then he said “I love you.”
I watched him beg for me to come back, near death after an overdose. I went back. I accepted blame again. He said things would be different. He said “I love you.”
But then, I didn’t care.
I was broken. My senior year of high school completely ruined, my life in pieces that I did not recognize. I was numb. When I finally left him for good, I thought I was supposed to feel better. I did not feel better. I felt alone, and unworthy of any friendship or relationship. I felt scared of all men. For so long I accepted the blame for every single thing that went wrong in his life and mine. I lied to my friends, and my family. Thank God that they were there when I came to my senses. I worked for years to become myself again. It has taken time, and a whole lot of Jesus, but I am alright again.
Abuse is not just physical. Verbal and emotional abuse is a real thing that affects so many women, but because it’s not physical, nobody cares. It especially affects younger women, because (most of the time) they don’t know any better. I am telling you ladies, saying “I love you,” means exactly jack shit unless you’re shown that love. Just like when you tell your sister “I hate you!” after she’s done something to make you mad- you don’t mean it. Love (and hate) lies within the actions we decide to make towards one another. Do not accept blame for things you can’t change, and do not take shit from anyone. I don’t care if he says “I love you.” If he means it, you’ll know. Ask yourself- do you know?
