Put On Your Makeup And Be Happy About It

My eyes hurt.

I'm waking up slowly, remembering last night's events.

My eyes hurt.

I get up slowly, look around.

I'm alone in our bedroom.

Water's running.

He's in the kitchen making coffee.

I look in the mirror.

I remember now.

I trace gently around the blues and reds.

"Bastard, hope you choke on the coffee." I mutter to myself.

He hears me moving around.

He's at the door.

I sigh, what is it now, I'm thinking.

What more can he want.

He's sorry.

I laugh.

"Gee, didn't mean to piss you off again."

"Go back to your coffee."

"Leave me alone."

I'm angry.

"Both of them really?"

"Both of them asshole?"

"I got shit I have to do, people I have to see." I say to myself looking in the mirror.

"Just put your make up on and be happy about it." He grunts.

"What did you just say?"

"Put your make up on and be happy about it."

This time he says it loud and clear.

I hear it in my head for hours to follow.

For days to come.

I think this was the worst incident yet.

I make up excuses and stories and lies to cover for him.

But you can see it in people's eyes.

They don't believe you.

They pity you.

Some stop asking.

Some stop listening.

I've heard stories about women that stay because they like it.

I have a hard time understanding that.

I don't know how how anyone could like it.

Some times we are just stuck.

Some times we are just stuck.