I am really craving things right now. And I'm not preggers,so it doesn't make sense. Cause for even more worry? Yes?
I'm craving Sonford fries with vinegar. I'm craving hot,freshly-made crispy chapo spread with a thin layer of honey and a cup of near-strungi. I'm craving my own apartment and deeply blue neon nail polish. And maybe,perhaps,a beating. Those scar-causing,blood-inducing incredibly painful ones,like Martin used to give Paulina. The ones that I have to say I fell. Or wear sunglasses for a week.
Those last sentences are a lie. But sometimes I wonder if that's how women who are beaten think,women who stay in abusive relationships.
I can't claim to understand or approve of the psychology behind abuse. I can only tell stories and hope people see the light. *cue Star Wars music while still maintaining the gravity of the situation*
I know a boy. He's so very attractive. In my freshman year,he was the It Man on campus. He's tall,dark,and handsome,literally. He walks like he owns the earth,or carries it between his legs,which apparently,he does. He's a musician as well. Always smells good,always looks good.
I know of his girlfriend. A petite thing,not at all shy or willing to put up with bullshit. Or at least,if you've gotten to university,you should have the mental capacity to be able to separate yourself from it. Right? And yet he locks her in the house they live in together and beats her for 3 hours straight,regardless of whether or not the neighbours are banging on the door to try to save her. Keep in mind-small girl.
They're both students. She used to live in the university hostels until he made her move out. Guess he didn't like to have to reach too far to slap. He made her give him her school fees for an entire semester so that he could...pimp his ride. During this semester that she was out of school,he would make her go to his classes-a completely different major-and do his assignments. Then he would beat her.
But,really,he didn't have to make her,did he? She could have left. Right?
The school was informed of this. The school said as it happened off school property,it didn't concern them,and they could do nothing unless the girl herself reported it. Which,of course,she wasn't going to do. Because she loved him.
So is it the school at fault,or the neighbours who don't take him to the police,or her,for taking masochism a bit too far,or their parents who raised them,or society who teaches them?
And what is love? Insanity? An excuse to treat people like scum? Or rather,is that really love? And if someone perceives love as beatings,do they not feel like their scars are an expression of affection,and when he breaks your arm,his love knows no bounds?
I don't understand. But my father has never laid a hand on me,and he has a right. Therefore,I will never wait around to give a man that right. Oh,he can try. Then I'll call my brothers,and buy a gun.