As I sat in front of the fire place sipping a glass of red wine, listening to my favorite love songs on the radio, trying to find a peace of mind, I reminisced about that black man and all the good times we spent together. But that was the beginning. He was so charming, so loving, the man of my dreams. I would have given anything to see that man again. But the more I thought about the beauty in our relationship my thoughts suddenly, become dark and gloomy. I can feel the sadness, the anger, the pain. Tears were streaming down my face, tormented, I could hear that loud voice and those painful words, weighing on my mind. The pain was relentless.

He was really loving towards me most of the time. I cherished the sex and intimacy. It made me feel loved. But when he got drunk that's when all hell would break loose. He blamed me for the uncontrollable rage that would ignite every demon that he possessed. He was like Doctor Jeckle and Mister Hyde. Please don't attack me for being honest, but my soul is crying out. I tried so hard to rise above my circumstances only to be over shadowed with the emotions of my dejection… my broken heart. My issues as a black woman affected me in more ways than I could ever imagine. Lord if you could just mend my broken heart then the bleeding would stop.

I would wake up the next day eyes swollen, lip busted trying to figure out what I did wrong.

I can still hear that black man telling me over and over again "I won't do it again." They were words used to ease his conscious, to justify his actions. But it was always my fault. But I know what you're thinking; why don't you just leave? You're on the outside looking in. I'm the victim. The fear of leaving him and what could happen was devastating. To tell you the truth, I didn't know how to walk away. But despite all the pain I still loved him.