I don't know if I can yell any louder
How many time have I kicked you outta here?
Or said something insulting?
It had been that way right from the start of their relationship. She was always making cutting remarks about his clothes, or his hair, or his music. Matter of fact, the first time she had said anything to him, it had been an insult. Something about the obnoxiously loud shirt he’d been wearing. He obviously loved her though, or something, so he let her carry on yelling and screaming and insulting him. She guessed he really enjoyed the making up part. She knew that she did. Their good times were beyond good. They were fantastic. No one could deny that.
I can be so mean when I wanna be I am capable of really anything I can cut you into pieces But my heart is....broken
It had always been this way. Always. They fought. They made up. She yelled. He stewed. They kissed. They made up. And then they started all over again. Always. And now…now…after all these months…he was leaving. She watched silently as he packed his bags, still being careful to fold every last shirt, even as he proclaimed how much he detested her and needed to leave before he sucked up any more of her negativity. He couldn’t stand being under her cloud of sadness anymore. Whatever that meant. She left the room for a moment and returned clad only in her bra and panties. She held out his shirt and boxer shorts, letting them hang from her crooked finger. He had the nerve to push her hand away. They both watched the garments drift to the floor, landing in a billowy pile around her feet.
Please don't leave me Please don't leave me I always say how I don't need you But it's always gonna come right back to this Please, don't leave me
She hated to beg, but, a girl’s gotta do, what a girl’s gotta do, right? She couldn’t let him leave. She hadn’t done anything different, hadn’t acted different. Okay, maybe, yeah, definitely he had a good reason to be mad at her. She shouldn’t have brought that guy to the house. But he didn’t mean anything to her. He’d just been away for so long that she needed…someone. She trailed him as he left their bedroom, dragging his suitcases and golf clubs behind him. Golf clubs. She almost laughed at the sight of them, he never played, it just seemed like the hip thing to do at one time. She didn’t know why he even wanted to take them with him. She pleaded with him not to leave. He had to know she still loved him. He had to know he’d come back – sooner or later – so he might as well just stay. She almost warned him, but he was ignoring her, so she let him continue storming out. The house shook with the force of his fall. She stared at him lying there at the bottom of the stairs for a few minutes and then rushed to grab the first aid kit. He changed his mind! He wasn’t leaving!
How did I become so obnoxious? What is it with you that makes me act like this? I've never been this nasty Can't you tell that this is all just a contest? The one that wins will be the one that hits the hardest But baby I don't mean it I mean it, I promise
She tried to recall if she’d fought with any other boyfriends. Not like this. No. Most definitely, no. But then, none of them had tried to leave her. She left them. Had he ever fought back? She studied his sleeping features and ran a hand through his dark, short hair. No, he’d been almost the perfect gentleman. No matter how many times she had struck him, or thrown something, he’d never retaliated. So then why, she pondered, frowning as he winced in pain when her fingers hit an open wound, did she want to do this?
Please don't leave me Please don't leave me
He was going to leave her. He’d packed his bags. He’d packed his stupid, useless golf clubs. She smiled as he opened his eyes, and then frowned again when he looked afraid. Why? She turned away to retrieve his hot soup that she’d brought up for him. When she turned back around, he was reaching for the phone. She dumped the soup on his chest, ignoring his cry of pain, and ran out to the hallway. He had really looked afraid when she returned with a golf club clutched in her hand. He wanted them so badly and had never used them. No time like the present, she sang to herself, as she swung the club with all her might.
I always say how I don't need you But it's always gonna come right back to this Please, don't leave me I forgot to say out loud how beautiful you really are to me I can't be without, you're my perfect little punching bag And I need you, I'm sorry.
Something about him made her act like this, she was sure of it. It was just him that brought out this special quality. She didn’t want to hurt him, but he just wouldn’t settle in to the fact that they were meant for each other. They needed to be together. She’d shifted his sleeping quarters to the basement. It wasn’t her fault he kept trying to get away. She didn’t want him to fall down the stairs again. It wasn’t her fault the wheelchair hit a rut and slipped out of her fingers and tumbled down the stairs. She’d fixed him up though, cleaning his wounds and making him all better. He always loved when they made up, but this time he didn’t seem to. Maybe because he couldn’t move his arms too well. Oh well, falling upstairs could be just as bad as falling down them for someone in his condition. He was better off staying snug in bed, safe and sound.
Baby please don't leave me No, don't leave me Please don't leave me no no no You say I don't need you but it's always gonna come right back, It's gonna come right back to this.
Somehow, someway he’d gotten upstairs. She must have fallen asleep before she could make sure he was secure, and now, here he was, running blindly around upstairs. Every step could bring him closer to danger. Quietly she stepped up the stairs, searching for him around every corner. She’d only brought the hammer along in case he’d locked himself in a room. She couldn’t let him be unattended. She spied the bathroom door gliding shut as she turned the corner. There he was! Of course, the door was locked, so she pounded a small hole and peeked in.
Please, don't leave me. No. No, don't leave me Please don't leave me, oh no no no. I always say how I don't need you But it's always gonna come right back to this
Her eyes blinded, she stumbled onto the landing. She was falling. She couldn’t believe it. She tried to gather her thoughts as the floor came rushing up to meet her. He wasn’t supposed to win. He wasn’t supposed to leave her. She knew he didn’t really want to. She heard the crack as she finally hit the floor in the front hallway, but she didn’t feel anything. She could hear the sirens; he must have called the ambulance for her. He did love her! But then, there was a police officer staring down at her and she could her babbling in the background, something about being held captive and abuse. The officer shook his head. “This little lady beat YOU up?” More protesting, discussion and then agreement when the officers looked at his arms. Handcuff marks. She didn’t mean to hurt him; she just needed to keep him with her. He wanted to leave. Why didn’t anyone ask her? She loved him so, she never meant to hurt him. “Well, buddy, if it makes you feel any better, you are in way better shape than little miss here. At least you’ll walk again when your breaks heal.” What did he mean by that? Of course she would walk again! She tried to move her head and settled for shifting her eyes when her head and neck didn’t seem to want to agree. She could see him being loaded onto a stretcher. Him? What about her? She attempted to smile at him, but pain was starting to slip in from somewhere. He sneered and turned away, flicking a blood stained hand at her in dismissal.
Baby please, please don't leave me