She did exactly what she told never to do. She compromised herself for a man.
She had gone more than 30 years being just herself. She had set firm boundaries from an early age of what she classified acceptable and reasonable treatment.
She had fell off the bandwagon once before but that time she had the excuse that she was young and stupid and didn’t really know the ropes. She had tasted love for the first time back then and it was incredible, almost too good to stomach until it wasn’t. It was a year of heaven on Earth, floating in a bubble of love, lust and contentment. The pin that popped that bubble was sharp enough to make her bleed.
The two years that followed were hell, a rollercoaster of low self esteem, the blame game and words that professed love but actions that caused fear, physical and mental hurt.
This wasn’t the same. The disrespect and hurt had never and would never come in the form of physical blows. They were mental shovels that dug away at her self esteem, knocked bricks from her boundaries and made her question her sense of self.
She sat in constant anxiety, that nibbles at your heart and gives you that gut sick feeling where you can never really rest.
He professed to be a man of his word. His first disloyal act caused her to compromise herself in a way she never believed she could. A hurt that cut so deep that her tears flowed for days and she had to pick up pieces of herself and attempt to rebuild.
A vital part was missing in the aftermath. It seems she left self respect on the floor amongst the debris. She believed in him still, in his words that went against his actions one too many times.
How many times would she allow the blatant disrespect to be soothed by his beautiful words, words that stripped away her common sense.
Would she continue to comprise herself until there was nothing left of her. Nothing left for him to hurt anymore. Her Achilles heel it seemed was a man. So she continued to do exactly what she was told never to do.