The Walk Out

Driven by something beyond comprehension or reason, he pulls my hair and grips his fingers around my chin towards him…and says nothing. For in that nothing spews all the words that he ever said to me:

Baby
Slut
Whore
My Love
Sugar Bear
B*tch
C*nt
Sweetie
Baby
Shithead
Stupid
Sweetheart

Like a very bad child.

I did something in that moment that I had never done. I turned away. Without reaction. Without desperation for his love. Without pleading for him to forgive me.

He grabbed my arm forcefully one last time. I turned back. I saw fear in his eyes.

I jerked my arm away,  heard cries with real tears from behind as I marched onward. I heard his own desperation turning their way towards me.

The one with the power had shifted.

I swallowed hard, clutched my bag, nodded to the Uber driver and got in.

“Please drive quickly, sir,” I said. Like in a movie, I looked back to see him running towards what he never had…running towards what was never his…running towards the best thing that ever happened to him.

Narcissism.
Abuse.
Fear.
None of it is capable of love.

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