Pain

I woke up in the motel and looked around. Light was spilling in from the sides and bottom of the closed shade. I was alone and fully dressed under the covers. The Coke residue and dried blood was still in my nostrils. We had gotten into another fight. He had been on it all night and hadn't slept in 24 hours. He was angry because he wanted a blow job while I wanted to sleep. When the drugs effect wore off on me, I didn't want to sleep with him anymore. I could only do it high, not even drunk because liquor made me pass out as well. I tried to think back to the last 48 hours. We had done a few lines then had sex for awhile. I had passed out and awoke to his voice. Turns out that he had called someone else to satisfy him while I was asleep. The old me would have freaked out, but I didn't really care.. His lying ways and secrets were coming to light . After another come up and more sex, I had fallen asleep. It was extremely hard for him to orgasm while on those drugs. Maybe it was me, maybe I didn't care. He had poured himself another glass of wine, then proceeded to tell me that he had finally orgasmed by himself. I told him that was fine with me. He then launched into a whole tirade about me giving up on him and never satisfying him. He called me names, compared me to every ex he had ever had, then suggested that I had room for an infiltrator. I had calmly told him that if he chose to stray in this relationship then that would be something he would have to live with, not me. He had gotten increasingly hostile, began getting close to my face and insulting me further. I was a bitch, a cunt, a lazy bitch and useless. I didn't deserve him and he wouldn't let me leave. I had to hear him vent. I couldn't leave the room to get away from his wrath. He followed me. I tried to lie down on the couch, he forcefully pulled me up, he then spilled wine from his glass on me. I was a stupid bitch for that. He insulted me by saying that I had too many issues. Every secret that I had told him about my life, all of my pain came back and was thrown at me. It didn't really hurt anymore.. But tears fell from my eyes. I was hit with the realization that he would never change. He would always be physically and emotionally Abusive and I would always have to deal with it. He kept insulting me, drops of his spit flew in my face. I reached out and slapped him. He slapped me over 10 times back, slapping both of my earrings from my ears and making my face hot. I want to the kitchen and grabbed the bottle of jack. Jack was the only one who could comfort me in these times. I had been hitting the bottle hard. It didn't mesh well with my antidepressants, it made me really sleepy but it also made me forget, it made me able to deal with him and his wrath. It made me happy.. I loved liquor and drugs perhaps more than him. Popping prescription pills didn't get me high like it used to.. My antidepressants made sure of that for me. He insulted me more. How dare I put my hands on him? How dare I? I didn't deserve him! There was a line of women waiting! No one wanted me. I was damaged goods and so screwed up! He had done so much for me and without him i would be living in the streets! I'd be sorry and sad and hated. I wouldn't have the job that I obtained, the car that I had bought, and credit cards I had gotten in my name! I had the audacity to laugh at him, jack was swimming in my brain now. He hit me with another back hand.

I oughta kick you in the head or knock you out. He began.

Go ahead. I said softly.

The blows didn't hurt. If I closed my eyes I would be taken right back to my abusive childhood where the same things happened. I expressed myself and got slapped, punched, or kicked. It felt the same. It was no surprise to me that I picked men as fucked up as my family members were.. He called me a horse, I neighed at his response. Another slap. He went back to the bedroom and further bashed me verbally. My hair looked stupid, my idea to free form my dreads was stupid because he wanted to do my hair for me! I didn't want that. I picked up the empty wine bottle and contemplated hitting him over the head with it. I felt its cool glass in my hand, its weight. There was also a pot under the stove that was heavy. Maybe I would hit him with that. I didn't want to kill him, I only wanted to shut him up. Next I crushed up 3 sleeping pills and put them in my pocket. Either I would hit him, drug him, or leave. He insulted me even more. I let him. He finally grabbed me and choked me, then threw me outside and locked me out. I had brought trusty jack with me, all was well. He reemerged and called me the dumbest bitch, made sure to be loud so that anyone within earshot would hear. He then took off his sandal and slapped me in the face with that too. The blow left my face stinging. Tears fell, jack comforted me. He was blaming me for us being broke, blaming me for him being on probation, blaming me for everything. If I wasn't so stupid then maybe I wouldn't be outside arguing with him. If I was good then I was allowed inside.! He went back in the returned with my car keys, wallet, and phone.

Get the fuck out of my sight. I've called my mom and I want you to go there.

Why? I want to be alone.

Well I don't care where you go. Just get out. I didn't even have my glasses, I couldn't see at all without them but I managed to drive to the motel And get a room. I was still dehydrated and tired. I ordered out and fell asleep.