15-05-2021-052358It-Ends-with-Us

Ellen, I wish you could write back to me. I wish that you could say
something funny to me right now, because my heart needs it. I have never felt
this alone. This broken. This angry. This hurt.
People on the outside of situations like these often wonder why the woman
goes back to the abuser. I read somewhere once that 85 percent of women return
to abusive situations. That was before I realized I was in one, and when I
heard that statistic, I thought it was because the women were stupid. I thought
it was because they were weak. I thought these things about my own mother
more than once.
But sometimes the reason women go back is simply because they’re in love. I
love my husband, Ellen. I love so many things about him. I wish cutting my
feelings off for the person who hurt me was as easy as I used to think it would
be. Preventing your heart from forgiving someone you love is actually a hell of
a lot harder than simply forgiving them.
I’m a statistic now. The things I’ve thought about women like me are now
what others would think of me if they knew my current situation.
“How could she love him after what he did to her? How could she
contemplate taking him back?”
It’s sad that those are the first thoughts that run through our minds when
someone is abused. Shouldn’t there be more distaste in our mouths for the
abusers than for those who continue to love the abusers?
I think of all the people who have been in this situation before me. Everyone
who will be in this situation after me. Do we all repeat the same words in our
heads in the days after experiencing abuse at the hands of those who love us?
“From this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness
and health, until death do us part.”
Maybe those vows weren’t meant to be taken as literally as some spouses take
them.
For better, for worse?
Fuck.
That.
Shit.
—Lily