At least I don’t have to check “Divorced”
On a lifetime of official forms
But I remember the wedding ritual,
The party, the thank you notes.
The marriage failed within a year.
At least the cats can’t ask me
Why she doesn’t come home any more
But they follow me with puzzled eyes
And keep waiting by the door.
I can’t seem to provide them a stable home.
At least I have my own career,
Accounts, investments, business sense
But half my income came from her
And half the household payments, too.
I scramble for work like an abandoned housewife.
At least the courts aren’t involved.
We are even generous with each other
But her subtle cruelty catches me
Every time, leaving me breathless.
I hate, despite my best intentions.
At last I don’t wake huddled in a ball
Waiting for the next attack.
Now I sprawl luxuriously
Amidst the cats’ warm bodies.
My horizons have opened like wings.
My name is Marina. I was in an abusive relationship for 12 years, and married six of those. I experienced abuse at every level, which started after being in the relationship one year. One of the most common questions I’ve been asked is, “Why did you stay so long?”
I was relieved to learn that it takes an average of five to eight attempts to get out of an abusive relationship—my... Read More »
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BRADLEY ANGLE•5432 N. Albina Ave.•Portland, OR 97217•503.232.1528