As I lay across the bed I could still feel the pressure and pain around my neck. I started getting flashbacks from the attack. I couldn’t believe that the man I loved would be able to do that to me. I couldn’t move, I couldn’t cry, and I couldn’t utter a word. The look in his eyes, the power in his hands, it was as if he wanted my life to end at that very moment.
How could a harmless argument reach to that explosion? What could I have said or done to make him view me as something and not someone? Just this morning we made love and it was as passionate as it’d always been. Afterwards we would lie together and just look into each other’s eyes. It was as if we were blending our souls. Those are moments I cannot get enough of. They are moments that fuel me through my hardest of days and times.
Now here I am holding my throat and wondering what else is coming. He immediately stopped, stared at me, and then he ran out of the room. I could hear him sobbing as he fumbled for his keys. The door slammed behind him with such force I could feel the gust of wind in the bedroom which is at the other end of the apartment. This isn’t the man I love. This can’t be the man that just told me he wanted to spend the rest of his life with me.
Before I could get out of bed I saw my phone light up. I slowly reached for it only to find his picture on the screen. As soon as I saw his face I began to feel the pressure and pain around my neck again. Do I dare speak with him after such a violent display? What would I say to him? What could he possibly say to me? I fought past my worries and fears; I clicked on the answer button.
Me: “Hello…” I said as soft as I could. My throat was on fire.
Ryan: “Help me…”
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