{Back to School, Back to Writing} He Held the Keys

We stood not ten feet apart from each other.

Eyes locked, I was not backing down.

So much rage, no more room for fear.

Standing in the darkness,

I was not backing down.

The reason didn't matter, he was mad.

He was always mad.

I wasn't good enough.

It didn't matter anymore,

I was not backing down.

Not this time.

This time I'd make him do something.

Not just yell,

Not just belittle me,

Telling me I'm worthless.

This time, I was not backing down.

He would not hit me,

Although I had wish he would.

Then people might see him for what was,

An abusive husband.

I was not backing down.

I was leaving.

No more.

I deserved better than this.

I deserved to be loved.

I was leaving.

21 years old was not supposed to be like this.

I was leaving.

I turned.

I heard something whiz by my head.

I hadn't noticed he had been holding the keys.

He had missed!

I left.

I had held my ground.

I had gotten out.


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14 years ago I was married to, well, a jerk.  And after counseling I realized it wasn't going to get any better and decided something had to change.  I don't think I had told anyone about how he treated me but, I think, on some level, my mother knew.  And I want to thank her, Thank you, Mom.  You helped lead me to the counseling and you helped give me the courage to leave.  I love you.


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