As I lay down here

As I lay down here, I wonder where did I go wrong. What could I have done differently?

Everything is so different now. It wasn’t like it used to be anymore. 10 years…1 year as friends, 6 years as boyfriend-girlfriend and 3 years as a husband and wife. I dreamed of a different life—a life of peace, happiness, love and caring—a life of 2 kids, a beautiful home and a small garden.

I never had any demands or any wishes for materialistic things. I believed in love. I believed I could support him in all ways possible. I believed we loved each other enough to face any hurdles in life. But I was wrong.

As I lay down here, I think of how my dream of a happy married life was shattered. He was drunk and I was blamed… blamed for everything. I was blamed for being fat, for not having kids, for not understanding him. I was blamed when he picked that glass of whiskey. I was blamed for not satisfying him enough. I was blamed for my very own existence.

As I lay down here, I remember the day I was called a wh**e so vividly. I was trying to pour my heart out in front of his drunken self. I was expecting a bit of love, understanding and care but all I got was a new name…wh**e. The irony is I never slept with anyone else apart from him.

As I lay down here, I remember the day he promised to get better and be better. I believed him with all my heart only to be returned from work to a drunken man with broken promises.

As I lay down here, I remember how he told me our marriage was out of pity and not love. How he loved another girl so deeply but could never be with her because of me. How he wished to be with her and not me.

As I lay down here, I remember how he said he will do anything and everything for his happiness and doesn't care about mine. I remember how he said my happiness was my responsibility. I wish he understood my happiness lay in him.

As I lay down here, I remember how much my trust and self-respect have been broken. I remember all those nights when I pondered on the question of ending or living my life.

As I lay down here, I remember how he kicked my stomach and said there is no kid in it anyway. I was broken as a woman.

As I lay down here, I remember all those times when people lectured me to be a good and understanding wife. I nodded dutifully but always wondered why they aren’t asking if I was okay.

As I lay down here, I look at him who is drunk and sleeping without a care in the world, what could I have done differently? Will ending my life solve all his problems?

As I lay down here, I wonder….

Disclaimer: The above article was initially published on my Medium Profile.