why?

I found out this morning that a woman I know left her home in the middle of the night with her three young children to begin her long journey to freedom from an abusive man.  She and her children are safe for now, for which I am grateful.  I don't understand it.  I never have.  And it tears me up inside.  I can't write more right now...it's too raw.

I wrote this almost three years ago.  Finding this out today made me think of what I wrote.  The only question, one which I feel will always remain, is...why? 

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July 31, 2005

Chains

When it all came down to the end of the road

I didn't know where I was going.

My steps were steady, my head held high

     But my eyes betrayed me:

I was confused and from my confusion came

         Pain

               Doubt

                       Fear

Little embers, remnants of days past

But fully ignited by your watchful care

---Not so watchful after all---

Not too presumptuous to confess the truth:

(At least in my mind it is)

Your control only stretched so far,

Never quite possessing the part of me that grew to

         Hate you

                    Despise you

                                    Murder you

In that one small part of me;

Miniscule, really, against the giant passion I held for you

      (Still hold for you).

But power comes from unbidden sources

And mine replenishes every day.

Amidst the agony of fluctuations

             The power and control revert to me.

For how can a memory---intangible, insubstantial, cancerous---yield power?

                           IMPOSSIBLE!

And you are, for me, just a memory now.

    Strike One.

At least I tell myself you are-

And words are more powerful than thought.

With your words you tore me apart because they

           Slashed

                       and

                              Maimed

                                          and

               Ripped open the wounds

I had so carefully nursed and hidden for so long.

Words.

Yours mean nothing to me now.

Empty words are like faded memories.

    Strike Two.

Yet actions speak louder than words.

If your words tore at me,

Your deeds KILLED MY SOUL!

Your lying lips caressed me with the devil's own searing heat.

You promised heaven and sent me to hell.

But I have escaped.

    Strike Three,  You're Out

Of my life,

My mind,

My heart.

As it all comes down to the end of the road,

I don't know where I'm going.

But I do know what I'm leaving behind:

and I'm never looking back.

The explanation:

Yeah, I know it's intense and stuff.  Eh, well, everyone's gotta have some kind of outlet.  It amazes me how much people abuse each other and never realize the damage they can do.  It takes a strong and amazingly special person to break the cycle of abuse.  Above all, it takes God.  Not that those who get trapped in it can really be blamed for the horror that they endure.  I mean, there always comes a point where you can choose what you do with your experiences.  Some feel so trapped that they don't even realize they have that choice.  Sigh...it's sad, really.  It breaks my heart.  I wish I could take the hurt of everyone who has had to go through any of it and just absorb it so that they wouldn't hurt anymore.  Sometimes I wish I could just grab those chains of destruction and break them, even though doing so would rip my own hands open.  But those chains can't usually be broken by an outsider, though their support and encouragement help those in the chains to break them.  But only those on the inside understand what binds someone in that cycle.  Only another insider can really understand.  But I send my thanks to all of those, insiders and outsiders, who have stood by and grabbed a link in that awful chain and held on with all their might, doing everything they can to help break it.  You are God's angels on earth.  And you'll never know how much you help. 

P.S.  It's not a love poem...it's not about a broken heart.  It's about empowerment.  It's about breaking the cycle; not just taking off the shackles, but really BREAKING the chains.  It's about recognizing that you have a choice and then making the right one.  It's not about someone else.  It's about me.