The night that signaled the true end was truly horrible. I don’t remember exactly how the fight started. What I remember is him standing over me in the dimly lit living room while I struggled through eyes full of tears to stuff my few belongings into my luggage. He was haranguing me…who knows about what. He was insulting me and spitting in the floor. I said something in my defense and he summoned a big wad of spit to expel on my face. It landed in a nasty mess between my right eye and my nose.

At that point I felt I had to react…I had to demand respect for myself. I had to show myself that I wouldn’t be spit on and treated like shit. So, I stood, squared myself off and approached him. He scoffed and said, “What are you gonna do?” I reared back and gave him the strongest right hook to his left jaw that I could muster. It felt like nothing but I heard the crack of his jaw. Dislocated.

His muscle memory of hand to hand combat training went into action immediately. No sooner than when my fist slid from his jaw had he grabbed my arm, spun me around, and sent me hurdling toward the wall.

My own face broke my fall on the wall. I should say: My own face broke through the wall. It felt like nothing. No pain, but there was a small amount of blood. My lip started swelling inside with blood immedately. Then he came for me, backed me into a corner and we struggled for a while. He tried to throw me over the couch but I fought him…I balanced myself with my legs, which had a firm grip on the back edge of the sofa. I had many opportunities to hit him again. I wanted to smashed my elbow through his face…but I held back. I didn’t want to hurt him.

At some point during the struggle I ripped his shirt, which had been a gift from one of his family members, in an effort not to be slung across the room. I wouldn’t let go. When that happened, he suddenly stopped and began weeping and breaking down.

I took that opportunity to call his father, who immediately prompted me to call the police. I was still so concerned about his well being at the point that I refused…I felt I couldn’t do that to him. So his father did it. He called the police and told them to send an ambulance for a wellness check.

When they showed up, I told the ambulance I was fine and he refused to be seen by them. The police picked up the work from there. They questioned us both and heard both sides of the conflict. Then, they put him in cuffs and took him away…

Even after that…I hoped things could change. I hoped he could change. I stuck around for a little while, but things never remedied.

I’ll continue this some other time…



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