He left the door open on the porch when he left and had not said where he was going to Letti. In frustration, she sighed but shook her head silently, tears still wet on her lashes. The last fight was brutal. Total assassination of what love is, or…what love should be?

From what she knew, love was many things and most things were positive and powerful. Love to her was supposed to be easy, there are bumps along the way, but they were supposed to get through them. The synonyms for love did not encapsulate rage, disappointment, abuse…in various ways. For the past four and a half years, she has battling with something…feeling stuck or stagnant, but lately the heavy prescription of smoking marijuana and drinking alcohol is just adding to the chaotic daily life that she and Chis was experiencing.

Could you imagine most days or everyday being in a state of constant crying fits, drowning sorrows in drug abuse just to make it through the day? The enemy is within the house with you…sleeping in the same bed, taking your money to buy drugs and alcohol, fighting you when you don’t give them money to gain, to maintain that high? Could you also imagine yourself being roused in the middle of the night, high when someone is trying to press themselves between your legs and invade your world, all you have left to hold onto at that time. In the midst of their constant bickering and violent fight, Chris would expect Letti to provide him the pleasures of a couple that loves and cherishes each other, but Letti refuses to give up her…but she does not always win that battle.

In constant temporary employment – unemployment situations, Chris is the stay-at-home fiancée, dropping Letti off to work then hanging out with his unemployed friends, with dreams of stars in their eyes creating music that will not see the light of day. While inventing rhythm and rhymes, smoking bags of home-grown marijuana that Chris grew in the backyard. If Letti protests she is battered with words and fists that cut like knives and brings on bawling and crying fits. DUI’s and court dates for Chris’ wreckless driving weighed on her. Days which she had to help him, while he physically fought her, detox from drinking too much alchol. This day was like no other.

Letti was faced with a few things that she had not confronted. She had been depressed throughout most of the relationship, after the “honeymoon phase” everything just crumbled. All the cracks came apart and they both fell through. Again, she is left here, alone, heartbroken, worn from finding reason why she should still be here…then the thought came through from all the horror and pain, “why don’t you just end it all…what if he saw you in the tub with your wrist slit?” Would he care, would he react and in what way? It was just too much, the constant heaviness of her heart, she would cry until she heaves, heart beat erratic…She have given up so much to be with this man, loved him despite himself. Loved him despite the doubts from friends and family that he ever was a deserving man of her affections.

In her grief, she prepared the bathtub as if she was taking a bath. Still weeping, she staggered into the kitchen to pick up a knife, it didn’t matter which one at the time, because the deed was one that was dishonorable. Her heart was so weak, her movements slow and hesitant, but she was sure of what scene she was going to leave for him out of resentment, revenge and regret. She moved into the bathroom, finally and took off her t-shirt and carefully submerged into the water that was not warm but not hot enough to burn her skin. The knife she chose for the deed laid on the top of the toilet cover, anticipating the act, one that was an impending condemnation. Letti used her right hand to reach for the knife and though she was still weeping, she began the task of tearing into the skin of her left wrist with the knife. The searing pain was what she felt from the first stab, but the pain in her heart was much more overbearing…the water began to have streaks of red, drops of blood quickly pouring from her left wrist and down her forearm, then floating in the water in a swirl. The heights of the weed she smoked 30 minutes ago still gave her a lift, so high that she didn’t notice she passed out in the tub. The heaviness began to lighten up as her body relaxed and drifted as though she was in an ocean, a bleeding ocean with her lifeforce leaking…

In the background, the screen door was opened and closed, and footsteps advanced slowly to the scene left in the bathroom tub…

**If you know someone suffering from an abusive relationship or depression, seek to help them. Depression that is left without treatment can lead to devastating events.