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He raised his voice at me.
He had never done that before.
No man had ever yelled at me like that before.
I saw a side of him that I had never seen before. Each word got louder as he yelled.
He was enraged, type that didnt know how to channel his emotions properly. Some of the words were cruel. He used words like ‘bitch’ stupid.
Each word left a paper cut in my heart.
The names he called me kept ringing in my ears at night while I silently cried myself to sleep.
His temper was short.
Anything I did was enough to make him angry. he didnt like the way I folded his clothes even though I had done that for years.
He complained about everything. It also made me scared to be vulnerable with him,to ask him how his day was going, if he wanted to eat a certain dish. Depending on how my sentences were phrased, he always found a fault. I found myself making mistakes because I was self conscious. I was slowly losing myself, I started rephrasing his sentences to respond to him, because I felt if I said something the way I would usually relate with other people, he would find a way to gaslight me.
I could not share anything without him being critical or judgmental. It was never like that. He slowly created wounds…
