Trapped

Being trapped in a controling marriage.Based on a true story of my life.

         We stood there toe to toe. This time, I told myself, I'm not backing down. He's hurt me for the last time.

         I look up at him standing there glaring down at me. I stare hard into the deep brown circles that once held so much love. Now all I could see was hate, pure evil.

         Go ahead, hit me! I know that's what you want to do, I can see the rage in your eyes. You've never done it before, but I know that look, I've seen it a million times. I wonder if he can read my mind at this point. I refuse to budge. There is no getting away from me this time. I am going to say what I needed-wanted to say for so many years and this time, he had no choice but to listen. For once the shoe was on the other foot. He was the one trapped with no escape.

         I've been married to this man standing here for thirteen plus years. It took me seven to realize I was not happy nor in love with him anymore, but stayed because without him I would have been alone. It took me another six years to realize it was because of him that I was alone. Although in those years I did finally escape the walls of solitude called home. I was able to work a few years, but was still miserable. He ended up showing his face around where I worked to check on me. Even my last job he was able to get a position there as well, working almost side by side with me. My co-workers were no longer friends. They hated the fact that he asked too many questions and butted into too many private conversations. I welcomed my fourth pregnancy at that time. No longer did I have to work with people who stepped on eggshells around me. All along I was alone, so being at home once again with a child was no different.

         It started very early on in our marriage. I guess I should have heeded the warning signs when we were dating. The, "you don't need to wear make-up anymore, I love your natural beauty," and the way he wouldn't look at me at my prom because I did choose to wear make-up. The,"you should wear baggy clothes so people don't see how skinny you are."  Sadly I thought things would change once we said I do.

         In the beginning we would walk every where until I became too sick from the pregnancy. We broke down and bought our first vehicle and that's when the problems seriously started. While he drove, I looked out the window, as most people do and one day he slammed on the brakes right there in the middle of the highway. I remember the rage in his voice as his eyebrows furrowed, his lips curled and finally the question arose. "Who the Hell are you looking for?" he screamed at me. I... I was speachless for several moments. I was scared out of mind being trapped on the highway with hundreds of cars passing and honking their horns at us. I wasn't sure if I actually heard him correctly. My heart was the only sound I could really hear, beating hard within my chest, almost as if it had grown twelve times its size. I could feel my whole body thumping. My ears burned and I began to cry. I explained that I was just enjoying the view. I wasn't looking for anyone, no one at all. His response? "Sure," as he started the car and took off speeding down the road. It seemed like that old station wagon went from zero to seventy in two seconds flat. After a few minutes he slowed down to the speed limit and my eyes were now and for many more years, focused on my lap.

         In a short amount of time, I lost all contact with friends from high school and over a longer period, my family. I became a hermit crap, stuck in my own shell with no room to grow. My dreams I had for myself as a child were crushed. For so many years I forgot who and what I used to be like. I became someone I didn't know nor did I like. But through blindness and stupidity I stayed and continued changing, always changing.


         Thirteen years, four children, a miscarriage, a heart attack and loosing our home later, I grew courage. Within months of my heart attack I began recalling my former life. Remembering who I was before him. How happy and friendly and bubbly a person I was. How much I was able to offer myself as well as others around me. I remembered all the changes I made to please him and make him happy, while realizing just how miserable I had become. As well, that I had given him plenty of years to grow to trust me. It was finally obvious he was not willing or able to ever make me truely happy. To change the only thing I had asked of him twelve years ago, his jealousy.

         Now this moment was taking place. It had been obvious to both of us for a long time. Neither of us could cry over the others hurtfullness and anger anymore. When we fought there were no apologies, only slamming doors. We had been sleeping seperately for six months now. Shouldn't that have been the ultimate sign? I didn't worry about his concerns and although he pretended, he didn't care about mine either. I wanted him out of my life, my home, my memory. He wouldn't listen before, thinking I was just upset and not really meaning what I had said. But I did, I meant it six months ago and I am serious about it now.  He wasn't taking another step into my life.

         I can see his anger building up but he doesn't speak. His teeth clinch and I can hear them grinding. By this point normally I would have walked away, not wanting a fight, but this time I am determined. "You don't scare me and I'm not backing down this time so I don't hurt your feelings. I don't care about your feelings anymore. I want you out!" I say, pointing to the door.

         "You really want me to leave? You're going to give up just like that?" he yells at me.

         "You're damned right I want you out! I told you six months ago and I haven't changed my mind. I quit, I give up, yes that's right! I've had enough of you questioning my every move, my every thought. I don't love you anymore. We're both not happy and it's because of each other. You are too untrusting, always have been and that's what makes us both miserable. I'm tired of not having a life. I'm sick of walking on hot coals to prove myself to you when in thirteen years it didn't matter. I'm exausted, I can't do it anymore. I won't do it anymore. Get out!" I scream.

         "Fine, I've had enough too," he says not yelling but not calm either. He walked to his closet and grabbed some clothes. I was finally able to breath. I let out a long sigh of relief and sit down waiting for him to walk out the door. It seems like forever before he passes by me to the door and I never look at him.

         "I'm leaving," he says suggesting something or rather wanting some sort of rebuttle. I don't care enough to respond. I really want to say "good," but I don't. I am not going to acknowledge his good bye. He slams the door open then stumbles as he reaches for the door to shut it as he's walking out. I want to laugh, but I don't. He looks at me as if seeking pity, I had none. He closes the door hard and I sit back on the couch and let out another long breath. I finally feel release. I close my eyes and smile.

         Suddenly the door flies open, slamming into the wall. I am startled. I bolt up from my comfortable position and once again my breath is gone. My heart is in my throat, my eyes blinking a mile a minute. He is back. I roll my eyes and, "ughh," is all I can say. I flop back on the couch, closing my eyes. All I can see is red. I know exactly what he is about to say. It is the same thing he said every other time.

         "No! You know what? Forget it, I'm not leaving!" he slams the door shut and goes back to his closet. My heart is sinking. In all this time I had not cried, but now the tears are flowing. Not from relief, from anger. Once again I know I am trapped. How much more can I take before I give up on life all together? I'm never going to be able to escape.