I haven’t been able to get time to update recently- but I promise I will deliver soon. For the time being, I just wanted to take time to record the fact that yesterday I woke up with my first honest-to-goodness bruise on my face.
One other time, there had been a small bruise under my eye after He had beaten me. What strikes me as funny is that these bruises never come from the harsh and protracted beatings you’d think would cause them. No, just a regular old bit of slap and punch across my oh-so-delicate face left me with this.
This. A bruise about 3 inches tall and 1 1/2 inches wide. On my left cheekbone. He is right-handed and usually the left side of my face takes most of the beating. It’s black and blue and green all over. At first, convinced it was just the play of the bathroom mirror, I poked at it. And winced. Yep- a bruise all right.
Later He’d shove my face into that same mirror and make me ashamed to be with a man that would mark my body- my face- that way. But for this moment, I just stared at my face and at that mark- that mark that said so much- and smiled.
