Taking Back What's Mine

I lie on the sunlounger feeling the rays beat down on my exposed skin. Last nights drunken antics are being posted all over Facebook and I laugh at some of the photos I'm tagged in. My hangover is beating a tattoo in my head and I feel sick and hungry all at the same time. A picture of me with my best friend makes me smile and I immediately change it to my new profile picture. A few seconds later my phone beeps with a message.

" Nice profile picture. Just what I want to see, my girlfriend with another mans hands all over her "

I stop and re- read the message, the smile wiped from my face like someone has just smacked it off. What on earth ?! Jakes my best friend, we've been friends since I started working in the leisure centre, he's like a brother to me !

" It's just a nice photo I thought "

I put my phone down and look at my laptop again. 12 likes and a few comments already congratulating me on my weight loss, how pretty my hair is, what a great photo, glad you had a good night.

Beep.

" You look like a slut. Get it off there now"

My heart races. Tears prick at my eyes and I suddenly feel awful. Do I really look like a slut ? Is that what people think ? I scan over the photo again - my hair is a little frizzy from the rain, make up a little smudged, Jake's hand is just placed on my waist and we look a little drunk but surely no one thinks I look like that . Everyone knows I'm with Ben anyway ....

My phone rings. Its Ben. I don't want to answer but I know if I don't he'll just keep ringing or worse, turn up. I pick up the phone and say nothing but immediately his menacing voice turns on me with a tirade of insults and accusations. He doesn't wait for a response, just yells and eventually screams down the line " have you nothing to say for yourself, you fat bitch !! "

I hang up, then immediately regret my actions. Of all the things I could do , that had to be the worst option. I panic as the phone rings again , and again, constantly over the next five minutes whilst I sit there , petrified by what I have done. Clutching the phone in my hand I press the reject button then resolutely turn the phone off with trembling fingers.

I lie back on the sunlounger. My heart is racing and I don't know what to do. If I turn my phone back on he will keep ringing and messaging ; if I don't he may turn up at the house and I can't deal with him today. I just want one day where I'm happy.

I knew it would be a mistake to go on a night out without him. Truth is, I hate going out with him. Before we've even left the house I'll have changed clothes because he thinks my dress is too short, too revealing. We'll get to the pub with his hand gripping mine like a vice. I've already been told how to behave, who I can speak to. He buys round after round and acts like everyones friend whilst I paint on a smile and pretend to be having a wonderful night, whilst in the back of my head I'm mentally preparing for the aftermath. He'll chat up the barmaid, flirt with my friends who think its all a laugh when I know all he wants is the chase, for someone to show an interest back. We'll leave the pub when he can barely stand, then walk home with him accusing me of sleeping with someone when he went to the toilet, or kissing someone when I've gone to the bar or got lost in the crowd. He'll rant and rave for a good few hours whilst I get into bed and lie there in the dark praying he will just go to sleep, not touch me or make me touch him.

But, of course, its always my fault. My fault he's like this. I flirt too much. I dress like a prostitute. I have too many male friends. The next morning he's always sorry. Sorry for what he said, what he did ... And because I've been told so many times I'll never find anyone better than him, that no one else would want me as a girlfriend, that I should be grateful he wants me , I accept his apologies and I pray it won't happen again. I've been praying a lot lately. For the last 3 years.

I flick through some of the older photos on my profile and come across Ben and I when we first got together. We look so in love, like one of those cheesy couples from a dating site who have found their soul mate, and I honestly did think that at the time.

He wasn't always like this. Some would call him a charmer, some a " bit of a lad ". I'd call him a narcissistic drunk these days . But those first few months he treated me like a queen.He was my Prince Charming - I was literally swept off my feet and I loved it , I loved the fact someone could make me feel this euphoric ! Now I wonder how someone could make me feel this low.

I don't even remember when the change started. It was just there one day before I even realized I wasn't my own person anymore. I was his and that was all there was to it.

My appearance was the first subtle change. Gone were the short skirts and knee high boots, replaced by loose jeans, track suit bottoms and ill fitting t shirts. Don't use so much make up babe, you don't need it and you're so much prettier without all that gunk on your face. Don't cut your hair gorgeous, you look so beautiful with it long ....

Then the nights out stopped because nights in for two were so much better than going out with everyone else. And I thought , how romantic ! Until I realized we hadn't been out as a couple for well over 6 months. He'd been out, of course, with his friends. I didn't go because it was a lads night though occasionally pictures cropped up on Facebook where he was with a mixed group .... sorry babe, I didn't know they were going or you could have come ...

Then the drunken accusations started . And I couldn't win anymore. If I stayed at home I was obviously sleeping with someone whilst he was in the pub. So he began texting. And if I didn't reply within a few minutes I'd get another text , a phone call , two phone calls, messages on my answer phone. Some nights I didn't hear from him at all but I'd be on tenterhooks all night waiting until I got a text to say he was home and I could go to sleep.

But the sober accusations and belittling hurt as well. Constant badgering, remarks, the control he has over me is unreal sometimes. I feel like I've fallen down Alice's rabbit hole, only I keep falling and there is no end and no magic anymore, just blackness and the stabbing thorns of the Queens roses as I try to claw my way back out again.

"I saw you looking at him as he walked past, have you slept with him ? "

or

" Do you think that bloke over there is eyeing you up ? Don't be pathetic, he just cant get over how fat you are "

Like I say .... I CAN'T win. Whatever I do is wrong in his eyes.

Last night was the first night I've had out in months by myself  , and I was only able to go because he had to work. To be honest I was surprised he agreed, he wasn't keen at first but I explained it was a work thing and I pretty much had to go so he relented.  I was so excited I was ready an hour early watching the clock tick around. I danced, I drank, I sang, I felt alive again ! Like someone had opened the cage door and enticed me back into the real world.

Now I'm back in his world. And I realize how much I hate it. How I hate being someone who isn't me. I detest feeling like a kicked dog waiting for his scraps of positive attention, how I retreat inside myself when he makes me feel like something he's wiped off his shoes. And fire builds inside me. Rage. Anger. Confidence. I fumble with the phone and wait for it to ping back to life.

14 missed calls, 10 text messages , 7 answer phone messages... I react to none of them. Just type in " I can't do this anymore. Its over " . I click send and I feel strangely empty. Then I turn my phone off and lay back down. It's not over. It's definitely not over but I'm done. I know I'm done. And I wont go back this time.

The breeze shimmers on my bare arms and I pick my laptop up off the floor

Profile

Relationship status

Single

And I smile and close my eyes.