Argument

         More and more often he makes me want to cry, but I can't.  Not in front of him.  The tears stay on the edge of my eyelids poised and ready to fall, but I fight them back with willpower alone.  I will not cry in front of anyone.  The angle of my jaw is severe as I clench and unclench my teeth trying to win the fight against tears, against sadness.  If the tears stay welled up inside me all that sadness and pain can't come spilling out either.  I will let them fall later when I am alone.  Where the only one who can judge me for my actions is me.  And I know I will.  I will rehash the incident over and over in my head, wishing I said this or that.  Sometimes wishing I had said nothing at all.

         Frustration flares in my chest like fire doused with gasoline, but I fight that down too.  Every time the fire flares my heart beats faster in anticipation of a fight.  My heart wants a fight, but I will not give it to her.  She must stay caged and complacent, otherwise I cannot control my actions or words.  Dangerous things happen when my heart bursts free of her constraints and hijacks my body.  She makes me say things that feel right in the heat of the moment, but only seconds later I regret.  I hate her for that.

         I try to pretend that each word you throw at me doesn't rip bloody holes in my body, and fight to keep my facial expression and voice light.  I will not back down.  I will not let the pain and growing rage in my heart free.  It feels like it will rip me apart from the inside.  There is only a Swiss cheese shell from the wounds already inflicted, and with each one added I begin to lose the fight with my caged heart.  She beats faster, excited to be so close to freedom, thirsting for a taste of what is so rarely granted. 

         She is so close to the surface now that I can hear the blood rush past my ears as she pumps furiously.  It is time to make a decision.  Loose the fight here and unleash her, or run away like a coward.  I choose to run.  It is not worth the damage she will cause.

         My heart screams in rage as I flee.  She tells me to go back and win the argument, but with my last threads of willpower we run.  As soon as we are out of sight the salty tears trail down my cheeks.  I don’t make a sound until I know that I am far enough away that no one will hear me.  Only the occasional strangled cry will come from my mouth.  Otherwise I am silent as my shoulders shake in time with my sobs.  My heart is furious at having to retreat, but by now I am too weak to go back. 

         No one won the argument, and we will probably argue about the same thing in a week or two, but at least I won the battle with my heart and held her chained tightly for as long as I could.  At least I did not let her loose on anyone but myself, whom she beats mercilessly.  She pokes at the already bloody holes and rips each one just a little bigger.  When she has done that to each and every one, she returns to the first and rips it even larger, continuing in a pattern.  She does not stop until I am able to wrestle her back into her cage.  More wounds are inflicted during the struggle, but at least I am safe from her for a little while. 

         Eventually the holes will heal on their own, but it is only a matter of time before they are reopened during the next fight.