The Trip That Saved My Life

It's time for PROMPTuesday over at Sandiegomomma - I really like her! Here's the prompt -

I ask that you write about a trip or an excursion that left you changed in some way. Did you conquer a fear on your trip? Learn something about yourself? Learn something about another person? Break up? Get together? Consider hospital time for the largest walking blister this side of Manhattan?

The Trip That Saved My Life.

We just needed some time away from each other. A few hours up the coast, just me, visiting my sister would do the trick. Some space would help us work this out. We were in the preliminary stages of planning the wedding. My father was incurably ill and it wouldn’t be long before he was gone. We were watching the tornado of death loom closer and closer. There was no stopping it. I wanted my father to be there, to walk me down the isle, and some grandkids wouldn’t hurt either. We had to act fast. Little did daddy know his princess was getting pummeled emotionally, mentally, and physically.

He had struck me before. The other times it was a kick, a shove, or a flying object headed in my direction. Most of the time he used his favorite - his trademark - grabbing a clump of hair at the base of my neck to hold me steady so he could rant inches from my face about what a c**t I was. However, this last time was different. A crack across the face. A sudden wallop, followed by the sting and throbbing and knowing of a bruise sure to come. He had never hit me like that and this too was followed by flowers and gifts and “no one will ever love you like I do…I love you so much you bring out all my passion.”

I returned from my trip with what I thought an excitement to see him, but realized at some point later on it was a trepidation of sorts. I was just too young and naïve to understand it. I was never scared because I had always fiercely fought back, he would just always win. I stepped off the train and found him already tracking me. Any other time, this would have convinced me of how he so deeply loved me because he already had his eye on me. This time it was creepy. It was tainted. It was spooky. The alarms in my head began to sound and I knew in the deepest part of my being it was o-v-e-r. I learned right then and there, on the deck of that train station that I was worthy of something better than he had made me believe.

The break-up was the third or maybe fourth time, but by the grace of God it was the final time. Although I must admit he was right, I never did find anyone who loved me like he did - I found someone who loves me better.