Sweet Haven

what love cost me

Chapter 1
There, I was stranded yet again, after all my efforts, trapped in a body unable to move.

There I was, in a room that smelled and looked like a morgue- it was gloomy.
There were no windows, but just enough light to see. The walls were dull white, but there were stained patches- like someone tried to clean the stains on the wall, but left it half done.

That night- the night I decided I couldn't stay- started like this

I was in a mini satin dress.
The back was completely open, held together by thin crisscross straps that looked like they could snap if I moved too fast.
Around my neck, a simple silver chain rested against my skin, drawing even more attention to the exposed space. My makeup was clean but bold.

I was in a bed as hard as a rock,
My hands tied to the rim of the bed, my legs spread wide, each tied to the end of the bed,
I was dripping in sweat.
My body was tensed on instinct, fingers curling tightly as if I could hold myself together.
A burning ache spread through me, deep and relentless, making it hard to think, hard to focus on anything except surviving the next second.
I bit down hard, refusing to let a sound slip out, even as my vision blurred and my heartbeat pounded in my ears.

Then I looked at him directly in the eye as fear gripped me.

He looked at me, his finger caressing my thighs; pain hit me fast, sharp enough to steal the air from my lungs
Laughs, looking at how much I struggle, so much pain in my eyes.

He said, I knew I would get my way with you; I knew I would get you- I have prayed and yearned to bring that ego of yours down.

I see fear, and I love that.

Now you are going to scream, cry, and beg for mercy, but none would be given.
Tired, I just had to; I was in pain; I needed my body to rest, so
I did. I cried, begged, but he didn't let go, cause that was his fantasy. I told myself I loved him, so I had to fulfil his fantasies.

Isn't that what love is about?
That's what I thought.

But I was wrong.
I needed to leave.
This wasn't the freedom I hoped for.
This is not how I want my life to be- trapped in a body that craves to be held, yet feels used and mishandled.
Controlled by a mind that longs for freedom, love and care.
So I decided to change; I needed growth, peace and care, not a kind of love that makes me feel useless and in pain.

He made me feel like if I left, my world would end, and I had no one who could actually love me,
He built my life; I worked for him; I was below him. He could ruin me if he wanted to.
He was my boss, my everything; everyone knew we were together.
I couldn't ruin the life I worked hard to get; where would I get a job again? How would I afford my lifestyle?
The pain of leaving behind someone who controls your whole life.

***
I was a business analyst; he was the CEO.
Perfect love story, they say.
We saw each other almost every day
Everyone in the firm knew me as a leech to him- the one who could get away with anything because she was favoured.
To some people I was lucky
To some, I was cheap.

He would always announce my monthly bonuses, get me flowers every day, buy me lunch, drop me off, and do everything for me, just for the outside gaze.

He got it; he was the perfect boyfriend.
But does a perfect boyfriend cheat? He doesn't cheat like others; he emotionally leans on another woman, always trying to make me jealous and let me know that women will always want him.
Does a perfect boyfriend make you feel less of yourself and make you feel insecure?.
Does a perfect boyfriend hate your guts, and only finds satisfaction when he tortures and makes you beg for mercy?

He made me feel like there wasn't something worth leaving the relationship for. For two years, he filled me with this quote
"There is no better man than me, and this is how it feels to be loved "

I had friends that I cut off because of him, cause my friends weren't helping me. He would track me everywhere I go- I had to call him, tell him where I went every day.
I couldn't have contact with guy friends because it was disrespectful.
But he could have girlfriends because he is a man.

I stayed in Los Angeles, two blocks away from his house.

I met his mom, who made me feel like I looked like a pig; I was treated like a slave, and he helped me by dating me.

He was my whole world.

One Sunday,
I went out with my friends. I came back home to see him at my house- his face was red. He was fuming- why, you may ask,
I came back after an 8pm curfew he had set for me, and I didn't keep my key under the mat like I used to.

I never thought he knew where my keys were, but apparently he came to my house almost every time without my consent.

At the office, he would give projects to everyone; when I got involved and aced it, he would never appreciate my work. When I confronted him, he'd say I was overreacting and that he didn't mix his work and personal life.

He buys me all my underwear, clothes and colognes; I have to smell the way he wanted me to and dress the way he wanted me to.
I had to look how he wanted me to; I had to be at the perfect weight; I had to smile, cry, and do anything when he wanted me to.

I was tired; I needed peace.
I knew this isn't it; this isn't love.

So I had to choose
I need a life

For my body to heal, I needed my soul to heal.

So I left.

I waited until he went on a business trip and sold some of my properties. I packed my bag, my passport, and the little savings I'd hidden. I didn't leave a note. I blocked his number before my taxi reached the highway. I didn't look back.