Eggshells

by Parm K.C.

The woman in this story is an amalgamation of many women. These words are for her – the one who has been with someone that made her feel cracked and small.

it started so beautifully – with bouquets of flowers, romantic dinners, sweet love notes, and everything you could want in a fairy tale. it didn’t start with toxicity. it didn’t start with heartbreak. it didn’t start with pain. it never does.

I wasn’t ready for love and I didn’t want to be pursued but he wore me down, eventually. I let down my walls and let him in, eventually. I fell for him, eventually.

all the reasons he once wanted me became reasons for him to hate me. he turned a vibrant woman dull, and now he says he needs more color in his life.

I know he doesn’t treat me right and yet I want him anyway. I could ask what is wrong with him, but the real question is what is wrong with me?

don’t you remember that? it was so brief, but so wonderful.

the way every touch was magic and every glance was butterflies.

it’s what I remember when I don’t recognize who I’m with. it’s what keeps m...

he is so charming in front of others, and so harmful behind closed doors. why does the world get the best...

it happens in drops, like rain in a lake. you don’t notice it filling at first, but it is accumulating like his unkindness is accumulating. and though you don’t feel it immediately, you will feel it sooner or later. slowly and quietly, then entirely, undeniably, and intensely.

I’m sitting on the floor, knees to my chest, waiting for him to come in to apologize. waiting for him to come in after me, tell me he’s sorry, tell me he never meant to hurt me, tell me he didn’t mean what he said, tell me he didn’t mean what he did, tell me it was the last time, tell me he loves me. I’m still waiting.

my ears are eager for footsteps, hoping for them to be soft and gentle – a precursor to a soft and gentle apology, the apology I know is owed to me. I hear nothing but silence. no footsteps. no calm knock. I accept that he’s not coming, but I can’t accept that he’s not changing. I’m sitting on the floor, knees to my chest, I’m no longer waiting for him ...

I think I’ll be waiting a...

I’ve never been the best at cracking eggs but still, I try.

so I crack the eggs with the utmost care because he wants a perfect breakfast, and I just want to feel like I deserve love.

we were good together, until we weren’t. he was warm to me, until he wasn’t. I trusted him, until I didn’t. how can everything change so fast?

the problem with being insecure is that when a toxic partner says you aren’t good ...

at the grocery store, I place a box of peaches in the cart. he grabs it and puts them back. we don’t need these – he snaps. I glance at the cart, full of his favorites and everything he deems importan...

it seems he only wants me when he w...

and I am so starved for affection, that I convince myself it’s love.

we don't talk about anything real. I try to open up, but he shuts me right down and doesn’t hear a thing I say. it’s like nothing that leaves my mouth has any value to him. none of my thoughts, my opinions, my feelings, have any value to him. I am of no value to him.

I colored his red flags green, but I’m almost out of paint. his true colors are starting to show.

what they don’t tell you about a toxic man is that while he is toxic, he is also many other things. some days he is doting and remembers how I take my coffee. some days he is cheerful and laughs with me while we watch our favorite shows. it is unsettling. to look into eyes and a soul that contain such hostility and selfishness while also containing unpredictable light. it makes you question him and who he truly is. it makes you question your own sanity. it makes you question everything you know. it makes you question yourself.

I pass lovers on the street – couples holding hands, strolling in harmony, looking like they belong together and I think to myself – I hope he is good to her. I hope he keeps her safe. I hope she feels his love from her head right down to her toes. I hope she gets everything that I don’t.

I’m tired of hoping he’ll cherish me the way he did when we first met. I’m tired of spending every minute trying to pinpoint where we went wrong. I’m tired of this tension controlling every aspect of my life – it feels like I no longer have a life at all.

when I was 14, I felt like no boy wanted me. I felt ugly and awkward, drab and undesirable. that 14-year-old girl continued to live inside of me and her voice stayed in my head. so when he came along and called me pretty, she fell to her knees. it was music to her ears. she heard nothing after that – she saw nothing after that. she decided right then and there she’d deny him nothing. all he ever gave her was the word pretty, and she went ahead and gave him absolutely everything.

he told me he loved that I was low maintenance, and I accepted it like a prize that I had won. my mistake. I should have taken it as a warning that he had no intention of ma...

I don’t know how he can fall asleep and sleep so peacefully when I am sobbing next to him. I don’t know how the one who claims to love me can be so unaffected by my tears and my distress. I don’t know how he can drift into dreams after we argue, yell, shout, an...

it is so complicated to love someone ...

somehow, the fault lies with me. when he berates me, I am responsible. when he’s angry, it’s on me. no matter what I do, no matter how hard I try, all of the guilt is on my shoulders and none is ever on his. is it any surprise that when he blames me, I blame myself too?

I walk on eggshells around him. hoping not to crack the fragile surface – hoping not to crack his fragile ego. I walk on eggshells around him and while I tread so carefully, he doesn’t tread carefully at all. he is not kind or careful with me. he is not gentle with my emotions. I walk on eggshells around him, yet somehow everything is still breaking.

he decides everything. what we eat for dinner and where we go on vacation. he decides the mood of the household and the trajectory of us. he decides everything while I follow his lead. because I never lear...

we look good on a screen. in the photos that show up in tiny little boxes for others to like and comment on. we look shiny and happy and like everything we should be. a beautiful couple, t...

I got so tired of fighting with him, that I stopped speaking up when he hurt me. I stopped trying to communicate, stopped bringing up my concerns – none of it felt worth it. I got so tired of f...

I miss the person he used to be, before everything. but more than that, I miss who I was before him.

it’s hard to make anyone understand. so eventually you stop trying. you accept their disapproval. and you accept your situation, here, in the clutches of the one who makes you feel the highest highs and the lowest lows. it’s hard to make anyone understand what you cannot fully understand yourself.

I want the type of love that doesn’t hurt this much – in fact, I want the type of love that doesn’t hurt at all.

he shows his anger constantly while I am not allowed to show ...

did I ask for this misery? did I ask for the insults, the disdain, the name-calling, the betrayal? did I do something to bring this all upon myself? is this the type of “love” I must accept because of something I did? no – this is what he wants me to believe. because if I believe I asked for it, I won’t question it. and if I don’t question it, I won’t question him. and if I don’t question him, he gets to escape accountability forever.