Powerless

I lay there, trapped.

Naked underneath you in the scrambled bed.

Only moments before, there had been mutual passion.

Now, there was only fear and pain.

The leglock would dislocate my hip if I tried to move it and had already tweaked something badly enough to continue to hurt.

I’d asked you to stop but you just kept going.

Trapping my head and my arm within the ring of one of your arms and pressing your head against them so I was immobilised if I didn’t want to put my shoulder out.

Each time I asked you to stop but you just kept going, choking me with my own arm.

Tap, tap. The traditional code words for submission in all forms of life seemed not to penetrate.

Until I screamed as best I could.

And then you released slightly but it was all too late.

I could feel the tears of frustrated fear start to flow.

To have spent so many years just letting things happen, not physical abuse but mental torment, the new me says when she doesn’t like something.

Won’t put up and shut up.

But to be ignored and have it happen anyway.

It just makes me feel so powerless.

As if nothing has really changed.

Except that this time it is you.

And I wont repeat the same pattern over again.

So I knew that I had to tell you.

Not straightaway, although as soon as you let me go, I pushed you away and shouted at you.

But later, I tried to explain and you went all quiet so I hope you understand now. I know it was never malicious but it was over-enthusiastic… and you needed to know that.

Things have changed.

But it’s more than that.

I have.