The First Time His Anger Turned Physical

He did it. 

I am slumped in the corner of our recently installed kitchen. The new cupboards my backrest. The smell of new wood and freshly painted cream kitchen  walls in my nostrils.

I am cradling my head in my hands now, the trickling of tears are soaking their way through my palms and dripping onto my knees that are tucked up underneath them. My bum getting slightly numb sitting here on the newly tiled floor.

We are officially living together two months so everything is new. The table, the chairs, the couch, the armchairs, the bed, the bedside lockers, the TV, the Sky box.  

The Playstation is old though.

So is our engagement; it has been two years since I donned the sparkly ring. Two years of organising and preparing for our wedding day. Two years of budgeting, excitement, of ‘discussing’ guest lists and menus, and wedding music, and then we go and buy a house in the middle of it so two years of stress and arguments too.

My tears turn into sobs when I think about our wedding day in six months time. 

My left jaw is stinging now, so my practical head comes on and I lift myself out of my corner.

I pull a tissue out of my pocket to wipe the mixture of nasal fluid and tears off my nose and lower face. I slowly pass the sitting room door and head upstairs to the seclusion of our newly installed bathroom. I have a little tin of Vaseline here somewhere.

After finding it in my box of bathroom stuff (that I still haven’t unpacked) I rub a little onto my now red and sore left jaw. I know it will ease any potential bruising. I have seen boxers getting it put on their faces so it must work. And I’ve never been slapped like this before so I have to try something. The only other people to ever slap me was my parents, and even then it was never on the face, and I was a child.

I look at myself in the mirror trying to go over in my head what had just happened and why.

Was it my fault? Should I have left him alone? I suppose I should have. I was being as stubborn as He was.

I wanted to discuss something important, he wanted to wait until after the football match. I maintained what I wanted to discuss was more important than his football match. He said this match was important too. I took the remote control for the Sky box and changed the channel. I now know that his match IS more important because he followed me into the kitchen, and asked me for the remote control. I said no, he slapped me hard across the face and took the remote control back off me. I slumped into the corner with shock while he returned to the sitting room saying ‘If you are going to act like a child I will treat you like a child’ and slammed the door shut behind him.

I go over and over and over what had just happened. He has never slapped me before, he has never even threatened to hit me. He has lost his temper and said things he regretted the following day but it has never been physical. 

But he didn’t hit me, he just slapped me like a child he said. I was acting like a child, I should’ve waited until the match was over. I know he will be all apologies later. I know I will sulk this evening, I won’t want to talk to him. But he will win me around with promises and maybe even flowers or chocolates tomorrow. 

A little piece of my heart has just been chipped away, but He will stick a plaster over the wound with his outpourings of love and He will cry about not wanting to turn out like his Dad and that I have to help him.

So I will help him not slap me again; I know from now on that watching his football matches are more important than me in the future.

I may forgive him tomorrow but I won’t forget.

 

 

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