Through The Glass.

When I got home, the house was spotless because Matt had cleaned it from the floor to the ceiling so I'd be comfortable upon my arrival home. The fridge was full of food because Matt had finally taken the time to go out and shop, and the freezer was stocked with all of my favorite Ben & Jerry's flavors. But it still reminded me of what happened, although, I did my best not to show it.

I hadn't eaten anything in the past week, which kept me in the hospital longer, but it also helped me to slim out, almost back to the way I used to be before I was pregnant. There was nothing but a memory of that, as well.

It was a rainy day as I sat alone by the window, watching the rainfall on the windowpane. I stroked baby blankets and clothes that I had been buying gradually as time went on as I cried silently to myself, alone. Matt was at work that day and the house was quiet and empty. It wasn't homey anymore. I needed to get away.
I left the house in my favorite hoodie without an umbrella, and quietly walked the streets of Jersey alone in the pouring rain. In minutes, I was soaking wet and shaking from the cold. I found myself at Chris' doorstep, ringing the doorbell. And when he opened the door, and saw me with my lips blue and my belly gone, he gathered me into his arms as I became nothing but a sobbing, emotional mess.


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Love and comfort are not just a desire. No, they are a biological need in all species. It's an overwhelming need to feel emotion, and love, by all means, is the stronger of them.

From the moment we're born, one of our main necessities is comfort, and love. A newborn is born recognizing his mother's scent and voice, and cries so he can be picked up, fed, cuddled, and loved. When a young child falls on the playground and scrapes their knees, they run to their parents for a kiss and a band-aid to make it all feel better.

It was the same thing that I was doing now, lying in Chris' arms as I sobbed at the disaster my life had slowly started to become. I was seeking comfort and love in the arms of another man. I knew it was wrong, but I couldn't help it. After so much abuse and needless beating, I was tired. I needed to get away from it. I needed companionship. True companionship with someone who would listen, who wouldn't judge.

Even after more than a year of being apart, Chris was everything I had remembered him to be. Sweet, caring, gentle. He smelled of Ivory soap and Old Spice. His hands on my back where gentle and feather light. It felt so good to not be alone anymore. To be embraced instead of pushed away, to be loved instead of despised.

With Chris, I was in control. I could tell him how I was feeling without being afraid. I could decide to pull away. I could say no. I could do whatever I wanted and he would sit there, internally accepting every decision.

So I pulled away from his warm and comforting embrace as he did his best to console me, despite the fact that my clothes were soaking wet and freezing cold. And that was the first thing I took care of.

I unzipped my hoodie, taking it off, and then boldly proceeding to take off the shirt underneath. He just stared, shocked at me, and then rose to his feet. "I can put that in the dryer for you," he started uneasily. "Do you need another shirt?"

I smirked at him. "No, that won't be necessary."

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I stood up, walking to him carefully, stalking him, before I was just mere centimeters away from him.

"You were always the best friend I could have ever asked for, Chris," I said in nothing short of a whisper. I moved in closer, my lips in close proximity to his ear, "I regret not making you mine when I had the chance."

I visually saw him shudder, as he continued to look at me with surprise. I nipped at his ear playfully, and he closed his eyes.

The power I had over him was enticing, it was thrilling, and I craved more. If I was with Matt I'd be squirming and weak under his power, like a mouse under a cats claw. But with Chris, I was the cat, and he was the tiny mouse that I would make mine, torturously.

I leaned in to kiss him, and his lips were so soft, so gentle and inviting, that I began to melt. The power didn't matter. It was his openness and caring that did. The way his lips felt just right against mine. The way he hesitated, making sure he wasn't pushing me, and then the way he invited me to take him, so vulnerably, it was more than I could take.

I pushed away. Here was just what I'd been looking for. My source of comfort. The kiss to make all my wounds feel better and magically go away. It was everything I'd hoped for and more. That gentle touch after a harsh beating. I wanted so much more, but I was afraid to take what I wanted from him.

"Allison," my name left his lips almost breathlessly, as he opened his eyes slowly, looking at me tenderly. His face turned serious and he looked down at his feet. "We shouldn't."

I knew that we shouldn't, but that didn't matter. Matt shouldn't have done a lot of the things that he had done to me, but he did them anyway. I couldn't let my entire soul be broken down piece by piece. I had to have some love, some tenderness.

"Matt doesn't have to know," I said assuring. "We can be careful. He doesn't need to know."

He sighed heavily, tiredly. "It's not just him, I'm worried about. My girlfriend…" He shook his head; "She'd be devastated if she found out."

"Oh," was all that could escape me. I'd never asked if he had been seeing anyone, and suddenly, I didn't feel powerful and in control. I just felt stupid and embarrassed. I didn't care if Matt hurt. But I didn't want to be the cause of anyone's suffering. I began to gather my wet clothes.

"Allison, you don't have to go," Chris said quickly, resting his hand on my arm, as if to stop me. "You're right, no one needs to know a thing."


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