His deep voice echoed in her mind. His words playing like a tape, over and over until they were engrained in her memory
Look at yourself, you're pathetic.
It was true, that's what made it so painful. The man she loved had confirmed her insecurities and doubts, when it was him that she needed to reassure her that she was worth something.
You really think I'd want you?
Truth is, she had believed, deep in her heart, that he wanted her, maybe even loved her. She convinced herself that he just masked his feelings to avoid getting hurt and to protect his precious ego. His actions, his words, his very manner contradicted one another every moment and up until now she had accepted this. She stayed out of his way when he was cold, even if all she wanted to do was touch him, hold him, possibly even help him; and when he called her to him she obeyed like a dog on a short leash. He owned her completely and it was tearing her apart inside to know that she meant less than nothing to him.
Leave now; forget me like I've forgotten you.
She couldn't think anymore. She could barely breathe. She stared down at her quivering hands, hardly daring to move incase the churning in her stomach intensified. She blinked her glassy eyes slowly and was surprised to find that for once there were no tears binding her dark eyelashes together. She supposed that after all this time, all this crying over that man, she had run out of tears.
. . .
She rose from the edge of her bed, after hours of staring into space, waiting for something inside her to make sense. She felt numb. Moving to the door, her eyes fixed on the floor as her hand gripped the cold handle and opened it slowly. The creak of the door was muffled, as were the noises of a man's fist meeting a wall over and over again. He was angry. At least she had affected him, if only negatively. She looked up at the ceiling, where the noises were coming from. Every time the wall was struck she winced. It was only a matter of time until it was her face taking the brutal assault, he wouldn't be able to keep it together for long. He was always volatile and she was always sensitive, they were never going to work.
Her hands were still shaking slightly as she struggled to keep her mind focused on anything but rejection. She couldn't force him to love her anymore than she could force herself to hate him. She slowly made her way down the darkened hallway, the only light coming from the setting sun beyond the windows. The floorboards creaked under her lightweight as she made her way into the kitchen, heading quickly towards the sink. Her stomach had finally given up on her. Once the contents of her stomach had sufficiently burnt her throat she slammed on the water, breathing heavily as the sink was washed clean. Suddenly, her hands tightened on the edge of the sink as she realized the violent cussing and thumping from above had ceased.