*Originally published for me in print and online by Scars Publications for Down In The Dirt magazine.
BY: Marc McMahon
Just because I invited you doesn’t mean that you’re safe. Just because I said I love you doesn’t mean I don’t hate. He always used to say that to me, you know he never used to treat me like that, he only used to bring me flowers but maybe his love for me has grown. Maybe this is how he loves, how he really feels. So much emotion he must have to display, to show it to me in such a way. I wonder if his mom loved like this? His Father, Or no that is right, his father is doing life in prison. The murder of those two girls. You know the two, they were all over the news.
I can remember hearing that he had severed the corroded artery on the one before dismembering her lower half, and the other, the other, well, let’s just say that they never did recover an entire body for that one which still leaves investigators wondering what he knows that he is not telling. Either way, it doesn’t really matter, it just goes to show he was not much of a role model for Brian when he was young. Maybe that is where he gets it, I really don’t know. What I do know is I have never met anyone else who loves in such a fierce way.
I guess if I had it to do all over again I would. I would go back to him. Oh yes, in case you had not figured it out I left him, for good. It was not that I could not take the violence any more or maybe I should say, his love anymore because in a weird way I think I kind of liked it. I don’t know it made me feel useful, wanted, like if I let him do that he would love me more because it really does show how much you love a person when you let them abuse you or as I say, love you hard! That’s really all it is, love. Why do so many call it abuse, I mean for me it is how I was taught.
My dad loved like that, and I can remember when my brother and his friends would play with me when I was young that they to must have loved me a lot because sometimes, well, it really is a secret but I can say this. Sometimes when we played together the three of us I did not like it. I know for the boys that its ok that I didn’t like it because it hurt me but I did not like that part. I am not really sure I am even making any sense here. You know trying to explain this, and you know how when you look at things in hindsight that they will often times have a new meaning. Or your perception of the event is different from the original. Well, that is kind of what has been happening to me lately.
Since I left him since we parted ways since everything changed and this darkness set in. Well, it is only dark in this room, the other room is much brighter I just haven’t decided if its time to leave this room yet because I know when I do he will be gone forever, even the memory of him. So although uncomfortable, I stay, for him, because now that I am gone it is my turn to show him my love, so I stay. I stay out of the light with a hurt heart full of love for him. My only regret is that he would have bought me more flowers. There were only 3 bouquets when I left. I remember when my mom left the family had bought her so many flowers you could barely count them all. Oh well, its getting cold now I better go back to sleep, goodnight.
About The Author: Marc is a 52-year-old Author, Speaker, and Soldier in a war to loosen the grasp that Substance Abuse has on our society. He is a Father, Son, and friend to all those seeking refuge from this incorrigible disease. Marc resides in the beautiful Pacific Northwest where he enjoys, writing, hiking, and kicking the disease of addiction in the teeth, every chance he gets. As Marc always likes to say, “be blessed, my friends!”