Each time he came home, the children will rush up to him, hug him nonstop, like he’d gotten home safe, from a huge war or something, and what they (the kids???) didn’t know, was that I was about, to get sent, into the battlefield next.
Each time he came home, our household would be underneath his storm clouds, if he felt fine, then, we’re ALL okay, but if he was “off”, then, HELL freezes over, and it still was NOT pretty at A-L-L!!! Each time he came home, he’d given me toys, presents, new clothes, and things that I’d wished for inside, and, at first, I thought, that he was way too kind to me, for bringing me all the goodies I’d desired, but, very shortly, I’d realized, that NOTHING in life WAS free, and, the gifts he’d gotten me became too costly, and I felt that I’d paid enough.
Each time he came home, the children don’t know this, because I’d hid it away from them, along with the neighbors, and, for a week after he’d left, I’d still worn those dark shades, to cover up the bruises on my eye, and, when people asked me what happened, I’d told them, that I’d bumped into a wall, and, it surely IS, a HUGE, and a VERY H-A-R-D wall too!!!