There was a time when a glance in your direction was enough to leave bruises on me-
I used to spend my nights in hours of arguments over your existence,
Nothing I said stopped him from pounding beers and screaming at me more.
And it wasn’t your fault most of the time.
He couldn’t handle the light in my eyes or the spark in my soul-
His main job was to diminish it and the more I refused the harder I paid the price,
No slap to the face or harsh word ever took that from me.
I hated you for it nevertheless.
We’ve built separate lives since then-
Finally coparenting in peace,
You occasionally help me with burning boxes and heavy lifting and I never ask for anything else.
It’s comfortable and most of our conversations are about our daughter.
But then I found myself having a panic attack at 12am-
Needing someone who was properly equipped to handle the nature of it,
I was suddenly nine years old again and found myself calling you;
That might have gotten me a death sentence three years ago.
You were reluctant because we both remembered what a glance in your direction used to cost me.
The harder I defended myself the worse the abuse became.
So when I told the man I love that I called you at midnight-
I braced myself for a violent reaction.
He told me he understood instead.
