The Truth Is: One Night

One day when we were in bed, he asked,

"What are you scared of?"

At first I didn't answer because I was waiting for the expected, familiar voice to answer for me. But it didn't come and he asked again, with a slight annoyance in voice,

"I asked, what are you scared of?"

I said, "I don't know."

That was my go to response. Every time. I didn't have my own voice until I was out the house and out of her grip. Her voice overpowered mines. Every. Single. Time. He paused and looked in my eyes.

"You know," he said.

I sat in silence for a while and faced away from him, but as if in cue he knew what I was going to do and he roughly — but still oh so gently gripped my chin and pulled me to face him again. His gentle brown eyes showed his hardship and struggles versus my dark brown eyes, surrounded by liquid tar. I swore every time he did this, I felt like he was trying to get into my mind. I felt like he was trying to analyze me and read me like a book. But we both know he can't.

Then, my mouth opened and mumbled, "To have no say in anything."

His face flashed a surprised expression for a quick second and regained its usual stone cold expression. I was intrigued for a bit, I didn't know I could get an emotion like that from him.

He continued and looked at me, "What do you want in life?"

I wanted to be stupid and reply "you," but I knew he would've just given me a look and ignored the comment. He's not that bad, trust me, but whenever he knows he's gotten a chance to crack me open and get to know what's inside; he'll take any chance he can.

So, I looked deep down and replied, "I want to have a voice again."

I've been staring at him ever since he made me look at him again. His gaze had since shifted toward the ceiling and I knew that he was thinking real hard about something. I don't know what it was, but whatever it was, he was staring hard at the ceiling. His eyes had a certain sadness to them now. As he stared at the ceiling, I closed my eyes, about to sleep.

Then, out of nowhere, I heard him ask, "Why is that what you want in life? You obviously have one."

I knew he knew that he hit a nerve. I didn't talk much about myself and there was a reason for that. I had no idea how to. He knew about everything though; he knew about my past relationships, my upbringing, why I wanted to leave this place so much. So, I knew he knew that this was emotional for me. That was why he said what he said — he was trying to lighten up the atmosphere.

I cracked a small smile, he knew actually how to make me feel better.

Then I replied back, "I want to be heard for once, that's all I want."

Before he could say anything, I kissed his cheek and rubbed his temples and said, "Go to sleep, baby. You have work in the morning and it's already late."

That was all he was going to get out of me tonight and he knew that he already got too much. It was silent and it felt like an hour went by already.

I was slipping into sleep and right before I fell asleep, I could've sworn I heard a faint: "I hear you, I'll always hear you."