It started out with me screaming at her. Then it slowly moved on to “just” a slap. We were dating at the time. I apologized to her. Told her I’m sorry. That it was my first time ever hitting a woman. She forgave me. Then it happened again. This time, I slapped her and kicked her because I snooped in her phone and saw her message to another guy. It turned out he was her cousin.
Again, I apologized and assured her it won’t happen again. That she’s to tell no one. I’m a sophisticated gentleman and beating up on my woman does not reflect well on my gentlemanly dispositions. For her, she’s a feminist. She’s all about women’s rights. No one must ever know that she has a man that beats her up. It devalues her stance amongst the many women that look up to her. And so we both kept up the charade!
Then we got married. I came home and lunch wasn’t ready. She was at work but gets off before me. I had a bad day at work. I was already fuming. I became garrulous. When the food was ready, it had too much pepper. I got upset. I cursed at her. We argued. I lost it. I attacked her. I beat her up mercilessly. Cursed her parents. Told her she’s useless. She packed up; said she’s leaving. I told her she will never find another man like me. I’m an abuser. I know all the tricks. I know she loves me. I know she does not want to start all over again. I know her pride won’t let her walk away. I know she will forgive me again. I begged her, asked for her forgiveness. I even cried this time. Promised to get some help for my terrible anger. Bought her expensive gifts. She stayed home those days; pretending to be sick. Her pride, broken. Her self-worth, totally worthless. Her face, swollen. Her physical scars healed. Her self-esteem emasculated. She bragged to her friends on what a wonderful husband I am. They all admire her. She posts pictures we take on Facebook. I played the role. The supportive husband. I chose her outfits, her friends, who she talked to and where she could go! I’m the man after all.
Then another argument. Then another beating! This time, she was hospitalized. She had a miscarriage. I hate that one friend that keeps telling that I’ll never change. Tells her I’ll disfigure her. Tells her I’m abusive. Tells her I’m wicked. Tells her I’m a man but not manly. I hate her friend. Tells her I’ll kill her. I’m glad she does not listen to her friend. I’m abusive. I know I’m a monster. But I blame Saitan. The devil. But everyone looks up to me. They adore me. It must not be known, that I beat up on my wife. I’m a modern man. I’ll change someday. Perhaps after I kill her. Just one more beating is all it will take for me to kill her.
