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Sparkle (14)
It was 3am, and she laid awake with her mind busied in thought. The house was silent except for the gentle hum of the furnace and the sweet sounds of breathing flowing through the monitor. She wanted to go in there and hold him tightly. She wanted to tell him that she was sorry.
It was another one of those days when she let the tensions in her mind escape through her angry words. She regretted every breathing minute of that day, wanting so badly to forget that it even happened. As her tears of guilt soaked through her pillowcase, she couldn't get his terrified face out of her mind when she had screamed at him for dumping the garbage on the living room floor. That heartbroken expression deserved to be there, haunting her, making her feel like a monster that she was inside. She prayed that when he woke, he didn't hate her. She prayed for forgiveness and strength for tomorrow. Then she wondered if he had ever prayed. Did he ever lie awake feeling remorseful? Did he ever feel like a monster?
He was always angry.
When he walked in the door, she held her breath hoping that he had a good day. Sometimes she hid in her bunk bed until she heard the tone of his voice and the way his feet hit the floor. They weren't always reliable indicators of his mood as they were always changing minute by minute. It didn't take much for the anger to rise in his throat and lash into her soul. His words always made her feel never good enough. His words instilled fear and anger and so much sorrow in her innocent child heart.
She always wondered why he had so much hatred behind his eyes when she had loved him so much.
She tried so hard to be perfect for him; being ever so consious that her actions may affect his moods. When she was in the wrong, she took in his hurtful screamed words without retaliation. Sometimes she wished that he would just hit her like he had threatened because just like the bruises on her skinny shins, they had always healed.
His words never did.
As she grew older, she held tightly to her mother who gave her unconditional love, to her friends who gave her validation, to her grandparents who gave her a sense of safety, and to her teachers for giving her the confidence to shine amongst the rubbish smothering her self esteem. She was grateful for the fortress of love she built around herself to deflect his words and to protect her from the pain.
She silently forgave him all those years he assaulted her verbally. Deep down, she knows that he loves her.
She still loves him.
At 3am, as she lay awake, she prayed that tomorrow she'll be better than he was. She prayed and hoped that in that heated moment, her child didn't feel the same way she had felt all those years. She wondered if her apologies and hugs and kisses where enough to repair what was screamed. She wondered if he would still love her when he woke.
Then she wondered if he had felt the same way all those nights he had screamed. She wondered if he was full of remorse and guilt. Did he ever feel like a monster?
At 3am, she prayed for him.
Kimberly is a mom, wife and part time registered nurse. She writes the personal blog All Work And No Play Makes Mommy Go Something Something
Photo Credit: aresauburphotos.
