Trigger warning: Abusive relationships
As I lie in bed, paralyzed by flashbacks of an abusive relationship, I begin to feel my heart pumping faster, louder, harder. I hear the bass in his voice through our shared apartment wall. Berating, a familiar sound that I recognize all too well. He does not let you speak. If I didn’t know better, the silence on your end would lead me to think he was alone, maybe yelling on the phone. It is clear this is not a dialogue between the two of you. It is just the voice of an angry, disrespectful person who is not even worthy of being called a man.
From our shared wall, I hear glass shatter and a tear runs down my face. I have been in your situation. I think to myself, “Should I be calling the cops?” I feel guilty not calling, but I also know that when I was once in your position, the cops showing up would have only made the violence worse the next time around. I have been where you are. I sat there as the man who I thought loved me was yelling in my face and throwing things around me. I have experienced the same looming thoughts you are experiencing, always wondering, “Am I going to be the next thing he breaks?”