Three

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Three 

Do you feel like a man when you push her around?
          Do you feel better now as she falls to the ground?
          Well, I'll tell you my friend, one day this world's gon' to end
          as your lies crumble down, a new life she has found.

 Even after we play some songs and we are done here at the bar, I stay around not only because I also work here, but also because I want to keep an eye on her. She’s held it all together and we’re about to close for tonight and she hasn’t cracked a single time. She keeps the polite smiles, no eye contact and quick deliveries. The less she stays around people, the better. When someone tries to talk to her, chat her up or anything, she just backs off and asks someone else to take care of that client. She doesn’t let anyone approach her one metre. No one can touch her and I know it’s because of her boyfriend, because of what he did.

I’ve caught her a few times sneaking out to take a breath. I’ve done this because I’ve been watching her. I saw her leaning on a wall once, her arms against the surface and her face hidden from everyone. I’ve seen her struggling during the whole night.

Every time I’ve just wanted to go there and take her away from here, take her somewhere where she can recover and forget all the harm that’s been done to her. A place where no one will ever hurt her. A place where I can look after her. But I’m not stupid, I know she won’t leave anywhere with me, she’ll stay with that idiot because she thinks he loves her.

How can he love her? I don’t get it. Am I missing something here? What’s going through his head?

Once we’re done for the night and the last costumer has been put in a taxi on his way home, he comes to pick her up. How does he dare? After what he did? He’s disgusting because he smiles radiantly when he sees her, hugging her and kissing her forehead with adoration.

Yeah, right, but just last night he beat the crap out of her. Way to be hypocrite.

Why does he do that? Does it make him feel powerful to hit her? Does it make him feel like a man when he sees her hurting and even bleeding? When she’s on the ground, looking up at him with pleading eyes? Does he take some pleasure from treating her like that? And why does she allow it? Why, oh God, why?!

He tells her he loves her, he kisses her and probably whispers in her ear that he can’t live without her but those are lies. If he really loved her he wouldn’t treat her like that. He wouldn’t make a scene and punch the first guy that lays eyes upon her. He wouldn’t force her to leave without even saying goodbye. If he loved her he would let her have friends and a world apart from him. He would let her be whoever she is. He’s pulled her into a private world where she can’t even ask for help. A man in love respects the woman he’s with and everyone that’s part of her life. Family and friends for equal. A man who loves a woman would never say something offensive to her. A man in love would only treat her like the most precious creature in existence. A man in love takes care of his woman. He clearly doesn’t do that. Come on! I’ve heard the way he speaks in front of her. It’s like he doesn’t respect her at all. He’s vulgar and rude, not minding that she’s a lady.

What kind of savage is he?

He not only mistreats her physically, he also treats her like shit. He insults her every time he makes a scene when she’s done nothing wrong. He abuses her emotionally by the way he isolates her from everyone else. And then he says he loves her.

I can’t make her leave him but I hope one day… I hope one day this world he’s pulled her in will crumble down and she’ll see the light and tell him it’s enough. I hope one day she’ll get tired and leave him, on her own. I hope she'll find a better life for herself. I hope one day she’ll see how much she’s worth.

He wraps an arm around her shoulders and lead her out of the bar but just when they are crossing the doors she takes a quick glimpse at me, knowing I’m watching from the bar with my fists clenched. She smiles sadly at me and I get so frustrated. It’s clear for everyone but her. Everyone knows she’s trapped in an unhealthy relationship, and abusive one… but she doesn’t escape.

When is she going to get tired?

They leave and I throw the first thing I find to the ground, which happens to be a glass.

“Argh!” I shout, so angry that I can’t do anything. Angry that I’m not doing anything to save her from this relationship.

Here I am, saying that I love her yet I still let her go with that savage. I should try harder to make her see the light. I shouldn’t stop until I’m sure she knows what’s best for her.

Maybe I’m not best for her, maybe she doesn’t have to come to me but I just want her to leave him and have the life she deserves, with whomever she chooses to be with… I just hope that person can love her properly.

A sick love is not real love. Some people accept any kind and lie to themselves, saying that it is love when it’s not. Somewhere deep inside them they know it’s not real love, it’s just a shadow of what love should be, a twisted sick version that only destroys instead of healing.

“Woah,” Derek speaks, the other barman. “Whatever is wrong you shouldn’t break the glasses. I mean, they don’t have the fault. They are not even alive,” he tries to joke and I groan. “There are healthier ways, you know? To cannel your anger.”

“I know,” I sigh taking a deep breath. I can’t let my frustration get in the way, otherwise I won’t be better tan her boyfriend. “I’m sorry.”

I don’t wait for whatever he has to say, I go and grab a dustpan and a broom and clean the mess I’ve made. And as I pick up the pieces I realise I have to do something. I have to convince her that she’s worth so much more. I can’t just let her go back to him. This is going to kill her inside and that’s worse than any beating.

I’ll do something.

-:-:-

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