I Wish I Knew

Trigger warning: Sexual assault, intimate partner abuse

Why isn't it more well known that intimate partner abuse is a thing? Why is same sex sexual abuse, in any capacity, seemingly nonexistent? These are both topics I feel need to be discussed more. I wish I would have known that these things happened, and I also wish I'd known that I was dating a monster before I started.

We can never tell just by looking at someone that they are a horrendous human being. They come off as slightly reserved, extremely kind, and trustworthy. I know they say you shouldn't judge a book by its cover, and that you shouldn't judge others based upon their appearance. But if we could just put a label on someone's forehead - "I'm abusive", "I hate animals", "I'm a narcissist". It would make life so much easier. I definitely would have steered clear if I knew what was going to be in store for me for the next five years.

The first six months of our relationship was pretty great. She was always complimenting me, wanting to touch me, and hold my hand in public. We rarely fought, and even when we did it was in a joking manner. Then things just kind of shifted. I was talking to a friend of mine that I had known for about seven years. We went to high school together. I was texting her, and I laughed at something she said. I got the "what's so funny?" and "who are you talking to?" third degree. She didn't believe me that I was just talking to a friend from high school. I reassured her, and the topic was dropped for the next few hours. Though we weren't discussing anything, she was very short with me, and kept giving me dirty looks. I made the mistake of asking her what her problem was.

Yelling and screaming, while unpleasant, I can handle. Being called names is tolerable, albeit hurtful. What I am not able to take is when someone starts pushing me against walls and throwing things at me. The first item I had the pleasure of dodging was a candle. It hit the TV instead. Then it was the tv remote, then she put her fist through the wall. I assumed that was going to be the end of it, but she decided she wanted to flip the coffee table over, sending our drinks and everything else flying. Her flipping the table made her anger flare even higher, and she came after me with a knife.

I don't remember how she calmed down, but she did, eventually. We had dinner and then went to bed. She wanted to cuddle, and I told her I wasn't feeling well so it probably wasn't a great idea. She insisted, but I told her that I wasn't feeling it because I wasn't feeling well. I woke up in the middle of the night to her inside me. I was scared, especially after what happened earlier in the day, so I didn't react. I just laid there and waited for her to be done with it.

I should have left the next day. I should have left and never looked back. But I didn't know that it was going to happen again. I didn't know that it was going to happen numerous times a week over the next five years. Even if I had, though, I honestly don't know if I would have had the courage to leave. I was terrified of her. I didn't know what she would do if I left, especially if that's what she was doing to me when I stayed.