49 cents

It's no secret that I hate this time of year.

Mostly, it's the way that this is the time I lost myself in alcohol.  I worked my ass off so I could pay rent, and drink myself

I saw him once, as I was leaving the gas station.  I saw his back, and when he turned around, it wasn't him at all.  I was so relieved, I cried and threw up.

A couple of months passed, and I felt a little stronger.  I went to get groceries, and I saw his arm, reaching out in front of me in line.  I ran for the restroom, knowing I was going to be sick.  As I passed him, it wasn't even 'him.'  I still threw up.

I cried and drank until

Three more times, eight more times, a hundred fucking times, it happened.  I thought I saw his hand, his shoes, his legs and I ran and threw up.
He was everywhere that first year.

Over a year later, and I thought to myself, if I see him, I'll beat the shit out of him.

I'd lay in bed and daydream that he was in front of me, begging.  I'd go to sleep dreaming of how I'd rip his body apart the same way he ripped me apart.

Somewhere in between the time where I couldn't sleep without blacking out, and when I started coming out of the darkness, I met a man who was kind.

This kind man didn't know what happened.  He didn't know how damaged I was.  Somehow, it didn't show on the outside, so

It surprised me more than anyone else that my body was able to carry not one, but two babies.  Instead of what happened, I thought of what could happen. 

I was broken, but maybe not too broken to love.  The kind man provided safety, and so much love.  The kind man didn't care about the broken pieces.  The kind man only loved the good parts

Time passed.

I saw him once the beautiful babies were born, and the kind man was at home. 

So much rage welled up in my heart, I wanted to kill him. 

If not for the kind man and babies, I would've killed him dead, the way a rabid dog deserves.  I saw a display of vegetables.  Green beans for 49 cents.  Before I realized it, I had two cans in my hand.  The story I told my kind husband later was that I hit him in the back with one can of 49 cent veggies.  And that I ran

I am not as kind as my husband.

I threw the first can at his feet.  When he turned, and saw me, I threw the other can as hard as I possibly could, and I heard it shatter his teeth.  I told my husband I ran.  I stared at him, I did not run.