Toxicity (BWWM)

Chapter 25

You have to tell yourself things like it's okay. He won't do It again. He loves me. It was probably an accident. What could I have done to avoid getting hurt? 

After a while, you start to convince yourself that it's your fault. You try to figure out things to do to please him.

Then when you catch yourself apologizing to him for the abuse he is inflicting on you, you realize it's too late to leave.

I remember the first night it started. I remember it clear as day.

The night was great. We spent the night at a restaurant, wasn't that great of a restaurant but we made it fun nonetheless. The ambiance was okay, the food was mediocre, and the service was mid. But does that matter? Does it matter when the person you love is sitting next to you?

 Everything seems minuscule when the person you love just makes everything better. I stare into his brownish-green eyes as he speaks to me. Our fingers are intertwined, we are lost in conversation, we are sneaking touches under the table, and the kisses he places on my shoulder and neck give me a constant stream of butterflies as he whispers sweet nothings in my ear.

It was all good once. Once upon a time. Who knew how the night would end?

We finally pry ourselves away from each other to leave the restaurant and get in the cab. Me and Zach had been together for about 6 weeks now, but it had felt like we have known each other forever. I am wrapped in his arms in the back of the car. That was also the first night he told me he loved me. Right in that cab.

Maybe it was my desperate need for connection and family after not having one of my own. I grew up in the system bouncing from different fosters moms, never staying long enough to get attached. When I did get attached to one, she died. 

I started to think I was unworthy of want or love. I desperately wanted something consistent and he was that for me.

He was staring at me not saying a word while I comfortably relaxed into his body. Our bodies fit together like a hand in a glove. At one point in the back of that cab, we found ourselves staring into each other's eyes in silence. He finally broke the silence by blurting out the three words I think I have desperately wanted to hear. 

"I love you." 

I said it back with no hesitation. Love was something I dreamed of having, and I was happy. He loved me. Finally, someone chose me. Finally, someone loved me and I held on to that feeling with everything I had. I was desperate not to lose it.

It wasn't until we got out of the cab and we told the cab driver goodnight that the night took a turn.

We made our way up to his apartment, I dam near already lived there anyway. I walk ahead of him and drop my keys on the counter. I don't hear anything behind me. I turn around confused but I am immediately met with a hard slap to the face. I tasted blood from how hard he slapped me. He walked up to my face and said clear as day. "Don't flirt with other men in front of me." Then walked away. I later found out that apparently saying goodnight to the cab driver was flirting. That was the first of many times.