In the Name of Love!

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I knew, one day I had to walk away. I knew there was no other choice if I wanted to live with some dignity and self respect. I had to think and act before I was crushed down and treated as just another object.

I am Samantha. A young, chirpy and out going girl. I was a restless soul they said. I had a big problem with my big mouth. I could turn sarcastic in the moment and also become sensitive in the very next. My friends said that, I didn’t just feel from the heart but even thought from the heart. I always thought they were exaggerating, but slowly I’ve realized what they mean.

Well, without beating around the bush, let me tell you, what thoughts were storming in my heart and mind. I was tearing away and letting each memory and thought of Justin fall from my mind and heart. I had to. I had no other choice. Thrice I had given him chances. Innumerable times I pleaded and requested him. Uncountable tears I had shed for him. Many a sleepless nights I had had. And then finally, one day, you just feel that Enough is enough!

And today it was for me. The day when enough was beyond my capacity of tolerance. I was married to Justin, four years back. Ours was not a real love story, but we did have feelings for each other. We were married off, three months after we started dating. It was somewhat a family setup.

Justin was tall, at 6 feet, while I was 5 feet and 10 inches. Justin was a fair skinned, well bodied man. He was every girl’s dream come true. He was lanky, and very handsome. I was a pretty woman in my own simple ways. With a God gifted body, which required not much effort from me, and a fair and clear skin, I was confident of my good looks but never counted myself as a beauty.

When we got married, Justin surprised me when asked me to resign from my job. I was working as an assistant to the editor of a fashion magazine. I was slowly and steadily rising up the ladder there. When I declined to do so, he started getting moody and hysterical. The reason to leave the job, that he cited to me was that he was not comfortable about me working under a male boss. That sounded more ridiculous than the demand to quit the job.

He wouldn’t speak properly to me, all the love that he seemed to shower on me, was suddenly non existent.

I succumbed to his pressure and resigned. It was very painful as it was my first job and I had been there for the last 6 years. And then the things got better at home. Justin was again like before. And love again blossomed between us.

As a few months went by, I used to get all lonely, sitting alone at home. And so I insisted on planning s family. Justin wasn’t ready for that. He said, We have the whole life to think about a baby, Honey! Let us live our life peacefully and enjoy the times we have.

Eager to start a family, I stopped my pills. Justin started getting more busier in his work. He would come home late, or was too occupied always. He was easily angered and hated when I asked him simple questions. My needs were fulfilled, of each kind, but I missed Justin, the Justin who would talk to me about his work, the Justin who shared his problem with me. My Justin seemed to have gone away. In his place, in the same body was another man, who was strange and ill tempered. Matters turned bad, and he became abusive. The first hit was when he slapped me when I refused to drink with him. And then it kept on happening.

He hit me whenever he was drunk or had faced some hard times at work. He always apologized and regretted it, and it wouldn’t reoccur for another week or so. I loved him dearly and wanted to help him. I was willing to do everything for him. But whatever I did, he always misconstrued it. He had his own strange thoughts. I was slowly breaking from within. I was all lost. I was all lonely.

And then, when I couldn’t take it longer, I told him to divorce me. He was taken aback. He cried and pleaded. He promised me so many things, he promised to become a better man and husband. He promised many things. My love for him shook my resolve and I decided to give him another chance.

(*to be continued)

S.F.R.

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