you put your fist through the wall next to my head, threatening me, 

and i cried, i watched the fire behind your eyes as i cowered in fear. 

you put your fist to my jaw, my ribs, my arms, 

it was no longer a threat and the fire was no longer a far away disaster. 

you grabbed me and held me, told me how much you loved me, 

and that you just didn't know how strong you were. 

you grabbed and told me that i didn't need to be afraid, 

and that you were going to be more careful. 

he told me how much he loved me while he beat me and strangled me, 

watched me choke on air and gasp. 

he watched me tell him i love him in those gasps. 

this is not love. 

real love is talking, instead of hitting, 

real love is warmth, and not the distant coldness of ignoring your partner, 

real love is when you comfort your partner, not shaming them, 

real love is saying "because i love you" when you propose, 

not when you beat them until they have to wear long sleeves to hide the bruises. 

for years i did not know what love was, only abuse that used love as a shield. 

real love is warm, soft, and beautiful and can be oh so painful, 

but love is not never being able to see your friends, talk to them, and isolation. 

lots of things are done in the name of love, but 

abuse is not one of those things.