I have been awake most of the night, unable to sleep, my mind racing and turning as to what to write here, which words to use to try and explain what happened next, and I apologise now if it all comes gushing out and makes little or no sense. I correct the typos and grammar but not the content.
When I woke in the morning, having finally fallen asleep, I was tired and unhappy. I lay there for a while wondering what I was going to do, how I was going to say what I had to say and I started to cry. The tears just came. I felt him stir next to me in his sleep and I slipped out of the bed, not wanting it all to begin, wanting things to stay the same yet knowing I would have to face this awfulness.
I crept towards the window, picking up a spare duvet on the way and sat on the sofa wrapped up against the cold, knowing that the cold was in my heart and no matter what I did I would not be warm. I sat and watched the sun rise slowly, staring out of the half open curtains, the din wintry light seeped around the edges of the room and he woke.
"Did I give you permission to leave the bed slave, did you ask?"
I turned and looked at him and felt my heart wold split, right there, and then into a million little pieces.
"What has happened slave, what is wrong"
This was the point at which I knew I had to speak, this was the moment when it would all begin, this was the end of things.
But I couldn't speak, I just couldn't find the words,
I am not allowed to lie, I have to tell him the truth, and I couldn't do it, I just couldn't. I put my head in my hands and I sobbed, I pulled the duvet around me, covering myself, shutting myself off from him and I sobbed.
"Talk to me sweet, talk to me, what has happened what is wrong?"
I got worse. I didn't want him to be nice, I wanted him to order me to tell him, so I would have no choice, so I would have the courage to do it........but he was being nice to me, being kind and gentle. I wanted him to hold be against the wall and slap me, beat me to make me tell him, but he didnt and he wouldn't.
I sat silently trying so very hard to find even just one word to tell him, just I word to start me off.
Was what I managed.
"You cant what slave?"
Once I had started I couldn't stop, it came out in a torrent of words; of unhappiness, of fear and desperation.
I told him that I loved him.
I told him how happy I was, how much I had loved being home with him, how I had dreamt about these day would would have together, about coming home.
I told him how each morning I had woken up and thought that it was one more day closer to being with him, being at his feet.
I told him I didn't want to go back but I had no choice and then I told him....
I told him
I couldn't do it any more,
There it was................. I had said it, although I was sobbing so much I was unsure if he had heard me.
But he had.
I tried to explain, that how could I go back, and live a half life, less than a half life, I couldn't do it, I miss him so much and I had no idea when I would be home again, and when I did come home, what time would we have, how would it be?
I told him that it felt unbearable inside me to say it, but mostly words poured from me trying to explain how I felt that if I continued like this that it would destroy me, that I would not be able to cope any more, that coping without him would , in the long run be easier than living a half life, a nothing for the next three years and I put my head down and I sobbed.
It took me a long time to get control and he sat there.
Then I looked at him properly for the first time and asked if he would release me.
Finally it had been said and it had been heard and I looked at his face, and he looked shocked.
The silence hung in the air, neither of us speaking, neither of us knowing what to say. I was shocked at all I had said, and he was shocked at what he had heard.
He got out of bed and came towards me, and took the rope in his hand and pulled me towards him, and I wanted to resist; I wanted to make him pull it hard to get me to come to him, but I walked towards him and collapsed in a heap at his feet, holding onto his legs, and he stood very still and very silent.
(I am sorry I can't write anymore now, this isn't meant to be like some Victorian melodrama, but I have to stop writing ,I have to work, but I will write the rest after work, )