lionWhat I wish I could have said.

You had a riser in me.

You had a woman, a wife, that saw the horrifically abused boy, locked away as a young man.

You had a woman who would have forgiven you anything if only you would stop beating her, because I am loyal as fuck. I always stay.

You had a woman that held your shaking body the night our house burnt down. I was strong that night even though, it was my third time losing every single thing I had. I could go on. But you will never read this, so I say it for me.

You took a woman with the heart of a lion and turned her into a meek, passionless lamb.

A year ago,exactly… because the wind blew wrong, it was Monday or your coffee didnt taste right, you hammered down on my body with all of your strength. There was bloodlust in your eyes. I knew I was gone. You punched and kicked, you threw me, then caught me up dragging me by my hair. I tried so hard to block u. Your slaps felt like donkey kicks..You broke furniture that I crawled beneath. You screamed like a mad man,with windows open and no one came to help me.  As I  tripped from you, a hideous mass of blood and bruises. More open wounds to create more ridges of reminders. I  fell.  You grabbed the back of my my hair again and I knew you would pound my my head into the ground, until I was unconscious. You screamed your favorite threat, that you were going to bury me in the backyard. You were more than a foot taller than I, and a truly huge muscled man filled with vitriol and rage. Something snapped. You had pushed everyone from my life. Even me. I had nothing, no one. You had stolen all I had. I somehow rose. I somehow got away. I somehow made it to the giant heavy sailing boat in the window. I lifted it over my head, and as a vessel of the sea has always done, it protected me. With all of what was left of me, I hit you with it. Stunning you. finding a weak spot on a monster of a man.

I staggered behind as many doors as I could get behind locked, through windows and up to the safety of the roof. I sobbed. I was broken. I had nowhere to go. I was so ashamed. I looked down… I looked up.

My cellphone felt like a gun. If I just pulled the trigger. I jolted as I dialed the safest person in my life.

For the rest of my days, I will remember the sound of Eric’s voice. I was hardly able to speak coherently.  He wanted to get me out the next day. But because of my immigration issues, it would take a few weeks. Next was Tippy, then Nick, who called Andy’s cell and told him he had two choices….treat me like spun glass until they could get me out of there or he would peel the skin from his body with a paring knife. Eric bought the ticket that night. And in knowing that I could go home… even if it was for a while…. I started to tell. I called Beau, my childs father. He called out others. Mac, the team, my family.. That night, Andy sat with a bottle of whiskey and a bottle of pills he stole from me. He mentions this alot on his social media,  for why he went to Vietnam. That this was a turning point for him…More lies.  He didnt want me to call the police. They had been called too often and if I pressed charges he would never see the outside of jail again, because of his carefully hidden record.

It’s been a year today. 

I wanted to write this far more eloquently. But my fingers feel blunt and without the ability to decorate my words.

So instead…..

I will tell you this.

I don’t flinch when touched anymore. I don’t take the copious amounts of anxiety pills and antidepressants that I had to a year ago. I can kiss deeply with my scarred mouth again. I can imagine a future beyond the one you left for me. I can remember the times you made me smile.  I can look at the night sky from a rooftop and let myself just breathe. I have started embracing my extra scars as badges of survival and pride. I can drink Stella Artois again without a sense of loss. I play the guitar and sing. I cook amazing meals and have plans that so outshine what and who u said I could be. Friends that you chased away came back tenfold. I am rebuilding me, without cheating lying stealing or hurting anyone.  Boom! The woman you had was a tired warrior, a dreamer, a lover of the lost and broken. I asked so little and you took so fucking much.

I can’t forgive myself for not walking out on you the day you chased my son home. But my redemption is that I rose. I rose each day. Through struggle, grief and stress. Every fucking day I rose. I survived. I healed. I let love in. I was forgiven and forgave. You can never touch me again. And this fall you won’t be able to do shit when I forcibly divorce your ass. All this time I thought you won. I thought you took the best of me. No. My candle just extinguished for a lil while.

When I put together this summer adventure for my son, it was to replace the dreams that you robbed from us. So he made a suggestion….

A month from now, from this day. On the day I flew home to America. On our wedding anniversary. I will be at the space needle in Seattle with my boy. My shining light. My favorite person in the world.  We plan to look out into the vista, hold hands and let you go. With big straight and tall fuck you middle fingers.  Because the lamb became a lion again. That’s the happy ending. I survived you. My son survived you. My family and friends survived you…. And you. Now you are the lamb. All alone. Unloved. without real dignity. 

I don’t wait for you to fall. I just accept that you will never ever rise. But I did.

short 014-002


A year ago to the day.


2 thoughts on “Redemption

  1. I could barely read this, it still upsets me to even think about that chickenshit excuse for a man. I let you down that day when he and I fought, after he attacked you, me and Bonnie. I merely choked him into submission instead of killing him dead as he deserved. I regret that because I could have saved you a lot of pain and suffering, but I didn’t, and I’m sorry for that. But, like the phoenix, you have arisen from the ashes and have the love of a good man and of many, many loyal friends. You are my hero and always will be.

    With love and the greatest respect,



  2. Being able to reclaim yourself and have this new life where you have love and plans and your son, that is the biggest “Fuck you” that you could give that bastard. My fantasy is that we could all go to Vietnam and do awful things to him, just short of killing him so that he could suffer. Reading your new plans and how you’ve been able to survive and become the new you, as strong as you ever were, and you realizing that you are that strong finally, I’ll accept as a good replacement for that other fantasy. We should all celebrate when you get that divorce.


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