Distress. Emotional, physical, hurt. Every morning, when I wake up, my whole body aches. I see my husband beside me soundly asleep. He looks so peaceful during these times. The hands on the clock seemed to be flying around and around at triple speed. All I wanted was to slow them even just the tiniest bit. “This is the man that I fell in love with. I wish he would stay like this longer”. The rays that are being emitted from the sun, creep in through the heavy, frosted curtains. They warmly embrace the features of his face, as if taking their time to carefully light up the unlit areas of his face.

I get out of bed swiftly and quietly to make breakfast. If I don’t, there will be consequences, and my body is already stiff from last night. It wasn’t his fault, it was mine for being slightly excited for putting in an application for a job and hearing that I got accepted; instead of taking care of the house. I go back upstairs to see that he is beginning to wake. I rush to his side, softly call out his name, and set his breakfast beside him. He wakes up looking disoriented and confused. I quickly grab the water from the tray and give it to him. “Even though you don’t deserve this. I mutter under my breath. As I give him his water with two hands, in a submissive manner, his eyes travel to the perimeters of my face. He reaches out his rough, calloused, but warm hands to caress my face.

I take a step back from him because of the pain that I feel. I give him an ingenuine kiss out of fear. Turning my head swiftly while he’s not looking, wiping my lips, as I rush to the bathroom, I am careful not to be too obvious of my actions. I stand in front of the mirror for about three minutes. Something wet falls from my face, I look down at the sink then look back up at my reflection to see tears running down my face. I quickly grab a tissue and wipe my face, careful to not show this side of myself to him. Though I am careful wiping my face making sure that the blue and red colors on my face don’t enlarge from irritation. I start with a bruise on my neck that I still am tending to this day. It was a party that we were hosting for our friends and family. I told him to make sure that he didn’t drink before coming to the party. I honestly probably shouldn’t have said that. I was a bit upset that day, and I let it slip in the heat of my anger. That day he had to work; he still wasn’t home after the guests arrived. I was feeling anxious and getting ready to call him when he walked in the door. He staggered a bit, but I caught him before anyone could notice. As I greeted him, I immediately got a whiff of alcohol from his breath. I followed him as he walked to the bar, and I stopped him before he gets another taste of the devil’s drink. He looked at me for some time, his eyes cold and distant. I actually felt a chill run up my spine. Lowering my eyes, I slowly gave him his drink scared of what he might do in public. About 30 minutes passed, and then I heard a noise from the bar. I turned around to see my husband fighting with one of the guests. I frantically ran up to the bar to pull him away. As I grabbed his arm and started to pull, he hit me right in the neck, actually making me bleed a little. To this day, I don’t know if he knew it was me pulling him away or not. It was then that I started to recite my seven word sentence. I tender to the bruise using a warm wash cloth as I say “It’s okay Eve, he still loves you” in front of the mirror.

I migrate to the yellowish-brown bruise underneath my eyes, immediately transporting myself back to that night. That day it was my fault. I should have just done what he asked. After he came from hanging out with his friends after work, he was really exhausted and asked me to make him something to sober him up. I told him that I was really exhausted and that I didn’t want to do it. I honestly should have just done what he asked me to, especially knowing that he was drunk.  He quickly became agitated. When I opened my eyes, I was lying on the floor that used to be warm before when I met him, now cold after his drinking. That day, I said my chant with a couple tears running down my bruised face “It’s okay Eve, he still loves you”. I don’t know if it really works, but I think it’s become a habit every time I receive a new fresh color on my face. After hearing him calling my name I clean the wound being careful not to irritate it any further. Taking a deep breath, I look up at the mirror, close my eyes, and chant to myself three times: “It’s okay Eve, he loves you, it’s okay Eve, he loves you, it’s okay Eve, he loves you”. Ever since that day, when I feel hurt and lonely, I go into the bathroom, close my eyes and chant “It’s okay Eve, he loves you”. My parents and my closest friends one day found out what was going on when they noticed the bruises on my face without my makeup. That day they sat me down and told me to get out of the relationship. I told them that I didn’t want to leave him by himself, that he wouldn’t be able to handle me not being by his side. After about a month, I finally let him go when I ended up in the hospital. That was the last and final time he ever laid his hands on me.