7 Soe 019 - Rape -sora Aoi-

I became obsessed with the angle of a ceramic bird. I measured it with my eyes. I built my entire emotional existence around avoiding his sighs and his silence.

Leaving wasn't one dramatic night. It was 400 small mornings of choosing myself over his mood. It was moving out while he was at work, taking only the children's drawings and my dented pots. I left the bird on the shelf. I left the clock that didn't work. I left him the silence. 7 SOE 019 Rape -Sora Aoi-

My husband never hit me. Not once. So when people ask, "Why didn't you just leave?" I tell them about the shelf. I became obsessed with the angle of a ceramic bird

If the bird was facing forward, he would sigh heavily when he walked in. That sigh meant dinner was "too salty" or the kids were "too loud." If the bird was facing right, he wouldn't speak to me for three days. Silence was his weapon of choice. It was colder than any winter. Leaving wasn't one dramatic night

Control is control. Isolation is a cage. Walking on eggshells fractures your soul long before your body breaks.

If it isn't physical, it isn't abuse.