Who knows what actually started the argument but it was happening. Yelling, screaming...two teenagers alone in an empty house. He always got angry and she always felt the need to defend herself.
If only he could SEE her point of view then he would understand. He would stop being mad and they could get back to all the fun stuff that comes with being high school sweethearts.
It was a non-stop cycle. He would use his angry words as weapons-- Each one burning, cutting, bleeding her. Although she felt she was a master with words who could talk her way out of anything, none of her words ever stopped his verbal blows from pummeling her. He would keeping yelling...keep saying horrible things to her...until she snapped.
Until she hit him.
And when she hit him...in his mind...this was the permission he needed to hit her back.
Walking away never occurred to her. Friends had talked to her and she knew that they raised valid points. But they loved each other. And you didn't turn your back on love...ever.
Besides, no other boy would ever want to date her. Who else would be interested in the fat, nerdy, red-head. Nobody else had shown an interest so far and she doubted that anybody ever would.
He asked her to leave. Yelled at her to get out of the house. It was his house and he didn't want her here. If she didn't leave he was going to make her leave. She was stubborn. She told him she wasn't going anywhere...they were going to have to work things out. Right now.
He chased her through the house--down the stairs and into the kitchen. In the blink of eye, she found herself on the floor. He was on top of her--with a butcher knife to her throat! They lay there...hot, sweaty, gasping for breath...tears in her eyes...anger in his...this was so much worse than anything that had ever happened before.
She snapped. Hysterical. How could he put a knife to her throat??? She was crying, screaming...irrational. Arms and legs were flailing in every direction yet somehow they ended back upstairs in his room. His thirteen-year old sister had come home and overheard the screams.
It's all right he told her...she doesn't know what she's saying...she's still upset about her grandmother dying...she's just had a breakdown...that's all. Don't mention it to anyone because she'll be embarrassed.
In the room as he held her he told her she wasn't to speak a word about what happened to anyone. It was a mistake...he was sorry...besides it was her fault because she wouldn't leave...and because she hit him first....
This wasn't how I spent every day in high school...but it was how I spent many a day. I'm not saying that it was always a knife to the throat--that was an extreme day--but I endured a continuous cycle of abuse. We were very toxic together. For about a year and I half...I was out of that relationship but then...I went back. I went back and married him. It wasn't always this bad...but interspersed between the happy memories are a whole bunch of horrible ones. Horrible memories similar to this one...
And leaving...I think...was the best thing I could have ever done...for both of us.
If there is one thing I'd like to express by sharing this it would be: THERE IS ALWAYS ANOTHER BOY (OR GIRL)!!! There is never any excuse for living like this. There is never an excuse to stay. Walking away is always the smartest answer. Each one of us is special in our own way and there will be someone who will not only love and appreciate us but will also treat us with respect.
Wait for that person...no matter how long it takes.