She walked into the restaurant two steps behind him in an oversized t-shirt and sweats. Her hair was cut short and was meant to stick out in all directions, but instead, due to the pouring rain it lay plastered to her round oval face. It acted like an arrow, immediately drawing one's eye to the fading mark on her upper cheek. It was still black and blue, but rimmed with the yellow that comes with time. She acted as if nothing was wrong, yet there was something unsettling about the way she interacted with the man she walked in with. She stayed at least an arms length away from him. She picked the seat as far from him as possible, while still at the same table. She was skittish and flighty. Or maybe it was all in my imagination.
The mark on her face made me think about what I'm going to be up against. It made me wonder if she screamed when it happened. Or if the tears she shed were from anger, or pain, or a combination of both. It made me wonder if she took the person back into her life. Or if maybe she was just clumsy.
It made me wonder if she knew that for every man out there that hits and beats a woman, there is another who wants to whisper sweet nothings into her ear and hold her close.
For every person causing a bruise, a broken bone and a shattered heart, there is another waiting to soothe, heal and pull together the pieces. One who accepts, who encourages, who loves.
One who sees beauty when all we see is brokenness and weakness
It scares me to think that this is what I get to fight against this summer, but I think I'm ready.
They fight with fists. I'm fighting with something much more powerful. I'm fighting with love... well, lvoe.