Losing Count...

Pain. 

Shooting pain. 

I feel the conduit tearing at my skin over and over again. Determined to never give him the satisfaction of winning, I tense my body and focus on counting. “40, 41, 42…” Knowing the amount I was to receive was my saving grace. So, I counted. 

Then suddenly I heard his voice, “I am not going to stop until I feel you break.” His words hurt more than the pain of the beating. 

Suddenly, I realized I had lost count, but it did not matter anymore because there is only one way to make the session end…giving up control. 

Control.

That was the only thing I truly desired. I longed to have control of something in my life. He told me what to wear, what to eat, who to associate with and even my spiritual life had to go through him. I wanted to be free. Free to just be me. 

He broke me. 

I felt my body give into the inevitable. Guilt overtook me. Internally screaming at myself for being back here in the first place. I knew he loved me so much that he is willing to correct me and yet this is how I treat him? Disobedience? 

I convulsed into uncontrollable sobbing. “I’m so sorry”, I kept saying over and over. 

He held me in his arms and began kissing my neck. “I love you girl, and I just want you to thrive in your life.” 

I lost count. 

I lost count of the times that this scenario happened. 

Hearing his words in my head saying, “This will happen until the day you get married.” I lost count.

~Tay

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