I Bleed I Breathe No More

TBD

I BLEED

“Good morning, everyone out there in radio land. This morning we are going to be talking about women and how differently some of them will live their lives.”

Yolanda leaned up closer to the microphone and held her left hand to her earpiece.

“I want you to talk to me about the phrase ‘I bleed’ and what that means to you. There is a song by Evanescence that says I Bleed, I Breathe, No More. I want to break this down and see where the lyrics of that song take you. Place your calls now. We’ll be back right after these messages.”

Yolanda’s producer cut to commercial time just as the phones rang. Teddy would be the one to screen the calls today and, from the looks of it, he would have his hands full. After just a few minutes, they were back on the air.

“Our first caller today is Yvonne. Hi Yvonne and welcome to ‘Let’s Talk with Yolanda.’ What is your take on the phrase, ‘I bleed?’”

“Hi Yolanda, this is my thought for the phrase. When a woman talks about bleeding, it is usually tied to her monthly period and not a pleasant thought for any of us. But for me it is different, I guess. I have had a hysterectomy, so that problem does not exist for me anymore. For me, the bleeding is done mentally. You see, I just broke up with my boyfriend of over 3 years now. He was emotionally abusive, and I just couldn’t take it anymore.”

“When you say emotionally abusive, what did he do exactly?” Yolanda coached, trying to get a more definitive response from Yvonne.

Yvonne thought for a moment and let her mind wander back to how it all began.

Paul had been quite a handsome gentleman. He was average height, about five foot eight, 150 pounds, and a semi-muscular build. He had brown collar length hair and a medium tan. He wasn’t a stud by any stretch of the imagination, but he was very pleasant on the eyes.

They were classmates in college, both in their senior year. Paul was studying for a degree in history and Yvonne was going for a degree in business. Paul wanted to teach in either junior or senior high school, and Yvonne was hoping to land a corporate job that would lead to a management position. She liked the wholesale industry, and she had pursued a career at any of the international firms in her area.

They had dated most of the year when Paul had asked her to move in with him just before graduation. They already had jobs contracted to start after they finished school and they would remain in the same town together. Yvonne considered the pros and cons and decided that it would be a good thing. She had hoped that eventually it would lead to a ring on her finger too, but she would give him time to get settled in his job.

The first six months together in the new apartment were great. They had gotten a place in a new development that had just been finished when they moved in. The exterior was brick with concrete walkways between each building. The grounds were nicely done with hedge height plants and bushes so that everyone would feel safe when walking around the complex. In the middle of the buildings was a large swimming pool and hot tub. There was a waterfall that fed the swimming pool and provided a constant flow of water to float in around the pool.

The apartment was a two-bedroom, two bathrooms with a master ensuite for them to enjoy and the other bathroom was located in the hallway next to the remaining bedroom. She didn’t know if they would need the extra bedroom when they first moved in but towards the end of the relationship, she was glad that they had it.

The kitchen was the typical apartment sized kitchen, but they didn’t eat at home that much, so it did not matter. Truthfully, the kitchen was used for more recreational purposes than it was for actual cooking.

Sometimes she would be bent over to look into the refrigerator and Paul would approach her from behind. If she had clothing on, he would reach his hand down between her legs and start to massage her private area with his hand and fingers. Maybe it was the idea of a new relationship, and they were exploring their sexuality. She loved the feel of his hands on her body, and it would not take much coaxing for her to drop her clothes right there and let him have his way with her. Sometimes it would happen at night when she just had on a pair of panties and a t-shirt. During these times it was very easy for him to take the prize at hand. He was always so loving in whatever he did that she never had a problem finding her pleasure during their lovemaking. She especially loved it when he would turn her to face him and pin her body against the counter as though he were going to take her aggressively. Then he would reach each of his hands down to her buttocks and begin to squeeze and massage them, pulling them away from the countertop and drawers beneath toward his waiting manhood. Sometimes he let it slide below her genitals, teasingly rubbing across, making her want to grab it and do the insertion herself, but he would grab her hands and make her wait on his timing. Finally, after seeing that she could take the pressure that was building up inside of her no longer, he would let her find the release with the pulsing of him between her legs as she slid down the full length of him. Just the thought of it now made her wet again with the wanton, primal desires that still stirred up in her.  

But then there were the ‘rage’ days as she called them. It seemed to start when he would have what he called a bad day at school. He would never tell her exactly what was going on, but after a while she did find out what was so compelling on his part. More on that in a minute.

Paul would walk in with that ‘look’ on his face. She knew ‘the look’ after a while. It was a look that said, ‘don’t speak to me, don’t mess with me’ and she would always try to give him his space. First thing he would do would be to pour himself a drink or grab a beer from the refrigerator. Next, he would plop down in the recliner and turn on the tv with the volume blasting. At first, she would ask him to turn it down as a courtesy to their neighbors, but his grunt sometimes turned to a growl at the mention of the thought, and she soon learned better of it.

Twice, the apartment manager came up and asked them if there was a problem. Paul always met the woman at the door and assured her that there wasn’t, that he wasn’t aware that it was so loud and that he would turn it down immediately. He would be profusely apologetic, and they would usually just thank him and leave. No one seemed to notice Yvonne as she stood at the corner of the hallway and the kitchen, holding onto the wall as she watched the interaction between them. Her fingernails would clutch the walls so tightly that it was a miracle that the drywall and plaster didn’t crumble beneath them.

After he shut the door, he would just glare at her and go back to his seat. Usually, Yvonne retreated to the safety of the kitchen or the bedroom to let him have his privacy. It would be those nights where the lovemaking would turn to a roughness that he never showed at other times. The forcefulness of his thrusting as he pounded away inside of her wasn’t so bad. The rough sex for her could be a turn-on at times, but his attitude while doing it, the lack of any signs of loving and tenderness to accompany his actions, left her hurting inside in more ways than one.

Mentally, she would be exhausted from the encounter, and she rarely ever achieved an orgasm or any sort of pleasure for herself. Usually it would be a ‘one and done’ for him and he would just roll off of her and either fall asleep or get up and go back in the living room to watch tv and drink another beer. Sometimes she would just lay there, trying to get her breathing to return to normal and for her body to begin to relax. If she could get her wits about her quick enough, she could reach her hands down to her vagina and bring about some sort of quick relief that her loins ached for. Other times she just rolled over, hoping to be asleep before he came back into the room.

It was their last Christmas together that things went south. She had come home that Christmas Eve and saw a tiny gift box under the tree. She figured that it had to be hers as she hadn’t put out any presents just yet. She walked over to the tree and peered down at the present. Sure enough, her name was right there on top.

She wanted to squeal like a little girl at the thought that maybe things were going to turn around. He would propose to her and hopefully realize that he had a good thing right in front of him and he should try to do better to keep it. Things had continually gotten worse in their relationship. There was no more lovemaking between them. There was consensual sex as they both had their primal needs, but once it was done, the romantic coupling and spooning was nonexistent. Paul’s drinking had increased to almost a six pack a day now and the verbal abuse had increased at the same pace. He was never physically rough with her, outside of the ways he performed in the bedroom, and he had promised never to lay a hand on her.

Yvonne was positive that deep down he did love her. Sometimes she would catch him glancing her way and his stare would be as though he wanted to devour her in his arms and still be her savior at any turn of despair.

But then came the moment when they exchanged gifts that evening. Yvonne had gone into the spare bedroom closet and gotten his gifts from the top shelf where she had placed them after they were wrapped. She spread the gifts under the tree. There was only the one little box under the tree for her, but if it was a diamond, that was simply enough for her. She felt sure that he would have purchased a nice sized rock to place on her finger and she could show it off when she returned to work after the holidays.

Paul went first. He got up from the recliner and went over to the tree. He picked up the small box and came over to where she was sitting on the couch and sat down beside her. He placed the box in her hand and smiled. Yvonne thought it was strange that he wasn’t getting on his knees to propose to her when she opened it up. She carefully unwrapped the box and opened the lid. There was a key inside of it. It seemed to be to a door of some sort, but she did not recognize the style of the key. It didn’t match any of the keys that they had on their keyrings.

“Paul, I don’t understand. What is this for?” Yvonne asked.

“This is the key to your new apartment,” he replied.

“I don’t understand. What do you mean, my new apartment?” Yvonne turned her head toward him to show that she wanted a better explanation.

“I got you a lease on a new apartment across town. I simply cannot live with you any longer. You have until the weekend to move out. It is paid for the first six months. After that, it is your responsibility.”

Yvonne sat there dumbfounded. Out of all of the possibilities that she could have expected, this was simply not one of them. In the end she was glad there were two bedrooms as she slept in the guest room for the next two nights until she could get all of her stuff out of the apartment and into her new home.

Yvonne told Yolanda about what had transpired and heard Yolanda gasp when she told her about last Christmas eve. It had been almost six months and Yvonne would soon find herself moving again. But this time it would hopefully be for the better.

“Yolanda, in the end you could say that I bled entirely. You see, when I called the movers to come and take my furniture to the new place, I met someone who is the gentleman that Paul will never be. Javier is the kindest man I have ever known. He listened to me when I decided to tell him what happened. He let me bleed all over him as the hurt poured out of me from the emotional toll that Paul had brought upon me. In just a few weeks I will be moving in with him and letting my last tie to Paul dissolve forever.”

“Yvonne, that is so wonderful to hear. I am glad that you were able to find someone who could make you happy and fill your life with joy. I do wish you all the best in your journey.”

“Thank you, Yolanda, for the chance to share my story with your listeners. If someone else hears this and it sounds familiar, please do not stay and let it get to the point that I did. Get out before something worse happens to you.”

The phone line went dead as both ladies sat back in their chairs and reflected for a moment at what had just transpired before moving onto the next thing in their lives.