Split the Home
I was that wife. They said this marriage was necessary. A painful choice, yes - but "in everyone's best interests." So we split the home, the memories, the heart - and called it Partition. He took half the house. I kept half the scars. The first slap came soon after. Then a punch. Then a full-blown assault. Every time, I convinced myself - maybe he's angry, maybe he's hurt, maybe he'll change. He was violent. I was patient. He sent terrorists. I sent letters. He hit. I healed. He violated. I forgave. I tried everything. I reached out the "elders" of this global family - the so-called neutral ones. They asked me to "Adjust", "Keep the peace", "Don't escalate" They gave him more money. They paid for his weapons. They called it "support for the family." They called it "aid for development". Every time he hit me, every time I bled, They said: dialogue is the answer. And so, I tried. For 7...
