I know he loves you. I know that is what he said, I know he claimed he would give the world to you. I know that is what you felt. I know your mother took it too, abuse in another form. I know they said men are cruel, I know you listened when the elders whispered. I know your skin is not made of wood, I know your bones are not made of steel. I know your heart is a soft haven, it was never made of stone. I know you want to be strong, I know you want to make it work. But I also know that dying before your time is not and will never be a sign of strength.

They said you talk too much that you always trigger him, they told me you were argumentative you always spoke back to him. Ok, you talk too much but must his fist be the answer. Ok, you talk too much, what about the night he raped you when you were asleep. Ok, you talk too much, what happened when he gave you scars when you were washing his feet. Yes, you speak too much, but talking was never his trigger.

They said you should stay, and you did, you stayed. But your spirit ran away; it ran to distant places. Your body remained and slowly faded away, degraded by the resounding blows. I see your eyes forlorn with grief, your heart is empty, and it’s shrinking away. Your mother told you to carry your cross, and here you are carrying it, yet falling beneath its weight. Jesus had help to carry His cross; tell me, my dear, are you greater than Him?

Jesus had help to carry his cross; tell me, my dear, are you greater than him? Click To Tweet

Marriage, is what was expected of you. A young woman ought not to be single. No man is perfect they said, make him happy they said. Cook, clean, listen, be quiet, respect, have children, give him sex they said. They said you needed to do all the work after all women can multitask, you can be mother, father, sister, brother, lover, friend, harlot, and maid; all in one breath. A married man lives longer than a married woman. I wonder why?

You stopped believing in yourself. You do not know what you look like anymore; you are a shadow trying to make it through. Your heart is beating, but you are slowly dying. Is this the place you came to die? But can I tell you to run? Can I tell you to flee? Do not worry what your pastor will say, do not bother what your mother will say; instead tell me, what will your daughter say? What will she say when you’re not here anymore?

Do you recall what I previously said here. Still, on this, I cannot mind my own business and watch you suffer. Tomorrow need not repeat today. I may not understand what is going on in your heart or mind. I may not understand the weight of marriage, but I understand the sanctity of life. I value the importance of your freedom. The things he said were lies at best, love was never made in bed, it was never made by quoting empty words, love was never a sonnet; it is never made by fists throwing punches, or words cutting deep.

love is never made by fists throwing punches Click To Tweet

Should she run? Or should she seek help? What else would you say if she was your friend?

What should she do?

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