What defines a monster? I've always wondered that. You see, I've met a few monsters in my time. My father was a monster. And I was married to a monster for 11 years. Oh, the men may have looked completely normal, but with what they did to people, their cruelty, the way they abused people, and treated them, they were monsters, I'm convinced of it. Human they were not. So, what is a monster than? Well, let me tell my story and how about I let you decide.
As I said, my father was a monster. He abused my mother, both physically and mentally all while I was growing up. He also abused myself and my brother and sister. Did anything ever get done about it? No, we just kept on about our normal lives. This was what we put up with it was just the way life was for us. Messed up, I know, but we didn't know it could be different for us. We moved every three to four years with dad being in the military, nothing was stable everyone had messed up lives around us. What was normal? So as the three of us grew up we each found ways to escape from the hell we found ourselves in only to find ourselves in another.
My personal hell was being married to a man much like my father. I knew how to pick them. Oh, he put on a good show at first, all dapper and proper. But then the show was over and I got the real deal after the ring was on. I was always taught divorce was wrong. You cannot leave, you have to stay. So I did, I put up with yet another monster for years. The pain destroying my very soul and then HE came along...
I was working myself to the bone as usual. I am a nurse and work long hours to make ends meet you see. Well, my bastard of a husband had been laid off from his job and was sitting on his ass at home not bothering to look for a job. He'd been doing this now for a little over a year when I met HIM. The unemployment wages weren't enough for us to keep the bills paid. We'd already declared a Chapter 13 to keep the house and I was working overtime just to get some other bills paid.
As I rushed out of the coffee shop with my Starbucks in hand, the one little luxury I afforded myself now, I nearly ran into the six foot tall man in front of me. I barely kept from doing so in time and spilling the hot chai latte down the front of my nursing scrubs. With a barely audible hiss, I looked up to see who I nearly had decorated with my cup of steaming tea, a chagrined look on my face.
"I'm really sorry, I wasn't looking where I was going."
"No, that's alright. I wasn't paying attention either." The man's deep voice boomed.
I'm short, only standing at five foot three inches and this man was very tall. He easily dwarfed me, but held out his hand and with a smile took my offered hand and instead of shaking it, he brought it to his lips and kissed it gently, his deep brown eyes twinkling slightly. Holding it still, he nodded to the cup I held and then to the Starbucks behind me.
"Another satisfied customer I see. I too have to have my coffee every morning."
I nearly blushed at the kiss to my hand. It had been a long time since a man had treated me like a gentleman. Longer still since one had flirted as this one seemed to be doing since he was being obvious enough to still hold my hand while talking to me. There was a part of me that wanted to pull my hand immediately away, I was married after all, and yet another part of me that enjoyed the little thrill and shiver that ran through my body from his touch.
"I really enjoy their chai lattes," I answered almost shyly, the blush probably creeping to my cheeks now and able to be seen by the man. Oh what must he be thinking?
