Pain

He hurts me alot. Everyday, the pain seems to just grow with intensity. His hatred for me seems to only grow with time. I remember those beatings clearly, each one is special in it’s own right, each one has it’s own special scar and sometimes, a scar within a scar.

I dont remember when or how it started neither do I remember when I started to accept it. To embrace pain in all it’s glory. Pain is beauty. In the silence of the suffering, pain is the bravery that speaks out against an injustice, the injustice. For isnt all injustice one and the same? Just like how all pain feels the same. Do I deserve this? Tell me, does anyone deserve anything? On what grounds? Humanity you say. What if I told you that the greatest of all pain is one in which we humans inflict each other. Not just in physical damage, but psychologically too. You might call out my embrace of pain as just an another case of Stockholm syndrome, to me this is nothing more than just an another dose of reality.

As he continues to beat me, I feel him losing. Losing this “war” of ours, and his rage… the rage of his fire of insecurity only seems to be getting bigger. Hence, the end is near. A war fought through rage is almost always lost, whatever his twisted purpose was for beating me.. it served him better than his rage. But now, he’s losing. He understands that he no longer hurts me like he used to. He knows now that he no longer matters to me. He lost me as I grew ever more silent and in my silence, I grew ever more stronger.