My Unscripted Future

“She said please, mercy me. Let me fall out of love before you fuck her, before you fuck her. She gave me all her pills. She lost control.”

 I see a lot of the abuser in those I am a fan of, in those you are a fan of, in those we are a fan of. We are fans of those who encourage pain affliction and therefore, there is no point of objection or awareness raising. I stand on the balcony day after day, fully aware, of singing alongside these tunes. I sing along with lyrics representing abuse that probably ripped apart her soul, most likely destroyed the last of her guts.

 “It won’t be long before she falls out of love. You are going to leave her, you have deceived her, and you are just a bird.”

 There is a lot to this story, more than the way your lyrics hit my soul. But I know of you and I know of those like you. I know of your stories and know of theirs as well. Somewhere along the line, I have become the background singer to an abuser. An abuser who labels his torture as the societal norm and hence, my background singing as a ritual. Overtime, our pairing has become faded but not as much as he would like to think or I would not be writing of it.

 “If he was to kill me, please understand it would be an accident. He would not mean to hurt me. Sometimes, he grows some extra muscle after working out and may push me a little too hard. This may lead to my death. If I do go missing after two days, please look for me because that is a little scary. I know it would be him, but before doing anything remember, it would be an accident.

 Also, he loves me a lot so he always wants me in his room. He is so scared to lose me that the shower door must be open when I am in there and he must be listening to me during every phone call. Of course, he is scared someone may be trying to steal me from him. His love causes this possessiveness; he is scared to make mistakes with me. Also, you only beat someone you love. So, when he hits me, it is only because he is trying to teach me a lesson for my own good. He does not mean any harm to me. His father passed away when he was four, so he has not had great upbringing. He needs me to help him. So, I will go back once you bandage up this wound. This one just got a bit bloody because of his extra strong workout at the gym last night. Thanks for your help, young lady.

 If you ever meet his friends for some reason and they tell you that he was going to introduce me to them as “meat for use”, please know that they are not good people like my love. He would never introduce me as a hooker or anything to them. If they were to use me like that, it would be their own craziness. His friends are crazy, like typical boys. Anyhow, thanks for your help.”