Well, maybe free isn’t the right word – okay, let’s say that I will be back to my own self.
Self that I know and remember.
You know, I can’t recall when it all began.
I think it was after our first big fight that led me to hyperventilate for hours — day after that he gave me that little blue box that had the most perfect pair of earrings in them.
People took notice of it right away, asking if they were a special occasion gift.
When I answered no, he just gave them to me, they wooed and wowed about how ‘generous’ he was.
I never mentioned the fight.
Then I think the next time was when we got into an even bigger argument that ended up with my head being continuously slammed against the cold kitchen floor.
I vaguely remember that I almost blacked out.
That weekend we went to a store that had lots of shiny bags that had specific lettering on them.
The sales people seemed really attentive to us.
“Enjoy” one of them said, as she carefully places the big box that had one of those shiny bags inside, smiling.
Anyway, I think that was the beginning.
It sort of kept going, and before I knew it, it became the routine for us.
The thing is, I liked the pretty things that I would get.
And I had a lot of it too.
I just never knew what it meant.
I kind of took it as an apology, and whenever his fist would meet my cheekbone, or his palm of his hand would encounter my face or his feet was taken to my body as I laid on the ground, I would remember the shiny pretty things in my head.
Then thought about the next pretty thing I would get after this was over.
Things changed a bit when he didn’t want to give me pretty things anymore.
Did I do something wrong? I would ask, and he would answer that I bring out the bad side of him.
That he doesn’t like who he is, because of me.
It was my fault?
The whole thing was sort of a blur and I didn’t know what to make of it, but since I was told to leave, I did.
All of the pretty things came with me.
For a long time, I never looked at them.
All the shiny bags, the pretty earrings, the necklaces, the bracelets.
It took a while before I touched any of them, and when I did – it didn’t feel right.
The pretty earring didn’t seem so pretty to me.
The bags – well, I just plain didn’t like them.
There was something wrong with all of them.
I can’t even pin point the last time I wanted to carry them.
I looked at them for a long time in my closet.
Then it occurred to me that I didn’t even want them anymore.
Have you ever felt the need to rid something out of your life?
As soon as these items leave my possession – I can be my self.