I sit in the queue, shuffling my papers nervously, my cold red hands shaking. I only hope my attorney understands.

“You are being selfish, you knowing, wanting time to yourself.”

“Why did you spend all that money from your inheritance? That was our money!”

My heartbeat becomes uncomfortably loud in my throbbing head. I thought the spark between us would overcome everything. I woke up to reality today, when I found the blue and black marks on my arms and shoulders, where he had grabbed me.

I wanted to lie in my bed and pretend this was all a dream, but the lack of apologies for the scars he hand inflicted on me made it all real. I was with a dangerous man, and I wanted him to beg me for forgiveness.

And then be able to walk away without giving it. The same way he never said he was sorry afterwards, and blamed it all on me.

As I wait, I glance up to find a reflection of me in the window. My baby face still has its soft angles, but the dark circles and worry lines have taken their toll. I look defeated, weary of the world I used to love so much.

Where was that strong warrior that used to live inside of me? The one who loved herself first, who could detect trouble by the first word that passed through someone’s lips? But even that admirable person wasn’t strong enough to resist the desire to fill the emptiness of being alone.

They say that if you love someone, you will always fight and keep fighting for that person. I thought I had loved him, and I fought. But instead of fighting for me, he fought me.

I am tired of fighting. I am tired of giving my all, and never getting anything back. I had been full of confidence and courage, and now I am empty. He all the life out of me.

“Next!”
I stand up, my hands clutching the manila folder. Today is the day I would walk away. Everything is done and gone. I will no longer regret any step I take.

I will find that warrior again.