Speaking of sick love
In the turn of little time Dafne didn't even succeed more to suppose and to understand the causes that produced the anger of Bob. In a first phase, the motive scatenante had been the jealousy, but with the time, every motive seemed good to attack her/it, both orally and physically. Everything was born from the strong insecurity of Bob, that she totally paid, doing I load. The all ended with the the usual pathetic teatrino, followed by the overwhelming sexual spiral, that every time brought them in the pseudo normalcy of their relationship.
In September Bob had programmed the long one and very attended visit in Tuscany, to make to know to Dafne his/her roots and the places in which you/he/she was grown. Nevertheless, a few days before the departure, you/he/she had received news from Cassandra for a possible candidacy of Dafne in an agency of his/her knowledge. When Bob had communicated her that you/he/she would have been the case not to depart because of the interview, Dafne went, predictably, on all the furies.
«I don't believe it! Does it jump then again? And all for the recommendation of that harpy? How come doesn't it make me assume where he/she works her and where have I done the my fantastic stage? I tell you him me because, because doesn't want me among the feet when go to work from them! And then I am tired, tired to postpone this visit from yours! Because we don't owe Bob to go us?»
Dafne had been taken by a sudden delirium, you/he/she was spitting him I set all of his/her frustration, nonchalant of the possible anger that would have been able to instigate in him. Instead Bob listened from the beginning at the end in religious silence.
«Daf, tries to calm you.»
«Me? Do I have to calm me? In two years have never felt you speak of them, neither of your brother, neither of other relatives, never! I don't know what discover doesn't like me! And then I don't want to make the graphics in an agency chosen by that woman. Be me disgusting, and I don't want to be as you, to live only of fottuto job!» it howled agitated in an only breath.
Dafne had thrown out an enormous outlet, that had been being held within perhaps for months; you/he/she had done him/it with an arrogance that seemed not to belong for a long time her. He maintained the firm nerves, partly spiazzato from that sudden release of the companion.
«I will pretend not to have felt. Last week you have planted me all those questions on as and when I go to the cemetery from Vanessa; then on where all of its things were. And now this nth placed on my parents. My past doesn't owe Dafne to concern you. Don't hinder yourself.»
But Dafne was by now too incattivita to stop, and it threw him in face other insecurities and other hate for the interview that imposed her to do. It blamed him that to his/her cause and of the useless his/her stage, in the last six months you/he/she had not even had time for a painting. To that sentence Bob took the first object from the table and dashed him/it to him I set, for then to slap her/it with vehemence, up to that Dafne implored him/it to stop, excusing out himself/herself/itself for his/her outlet place. After having stopped, Bob was beaten you/he/she brings her/it to the shoulders, to reappear only in late evening. Dafne had coldly welcomed him/it, but he had thrown out of the pocket a velvety wrap, with inside a ring of white gold:
«This is for making to forgive me and to show you how much I love you. I would like that I immediately wore him/it and I would like to make you a portrait with only this I set.»
Of first I lead off, Dafne stayed dark, because of the nth beating of few hours before. After an instant its eyes shone, in front of that gift, of certain expensive. Besides, the idea that he wanted to withdraw her/it, more whatever gift excited her/it, returning her certainty that sooner or later Bob would have stopped to attack, that that would have returned some beginning her/it, his/her artist, his/her dessert lover. Dafne went on to the awareness that that whole evil was always mended by the precious instants in which Bob succeeded in surprising her/it.
Bob is badly for something of the past that the tormented one, this was what Dafne you/he/she repeated him in the head. According to his/her hypotheses, after the death of his/her/their wife, you/he/she could have developed a sort of obsessive phobia, a constant fear to lose the beloved person, skipping so all the other affective and family relationships. You could not know what he/she meant to lose someone that is loved forever. The only thought chilled her/it. Made these considerations, it considered to his/her outlet and it felt him bad, paradoxically in guilt for the fact not to succeed in recovering him/it from that pain.
Bob was his/her angel and his/her demon, present in ambivalent way in the same body and in the same soul.
The day later Dafne was introduced to the famous interview, more to gratify Bob that for the fact to have changed mind. Despite the references and the opportunity, you/he/she was not assumed.
To that news, Bob reacted very bad. It began exposing in way detached what he/she thought.
«Cassandra has personally talked to the Mr. Cadets. You/they have still found your immature profile for the sought after position» it communicated him pouring himself/herself/itself to drink.
«And would it be my guilt?» churches her, angry.
«Have not ended! For your little experience, have only to thank that cafes of poveretti where have lost one year of time! But is the aspect that indeed bewilders me another; it was indeed the case to tell the Mr. Cadets that the publicity is not everything and that it doesn't need to plagiarize the people?» he/she asked Bob to narrow teeth, visibly angry.
«I have said only what I thought.»
«Have said only what would have guaranteed you to be discarded! Do you have it foresees the figure that Cassandra and I have done us?» it thundered Bob beginning to lose the control.
«I am tired not to have freedom of speech anymore Bob! I always feel me under accuses, I feel me a puppet to your image and similarity! I try everything but they are never to your height! I am tired Bob, tired! Yes, I didn't want that place!»
Bob didn't deny him. Her tone and the confirmation that you/he/she had sabotaged the interview, had vexed him/it; it was her I set in an instant. In those circumstances, what mostly shocked the girl, it was the metamorphosis of that look that so much loved. His ferocity in to strike seemed her/it untamable, literally turning him/it into an animal. In that occasion, Dafne didn't easily succeed in getting truce from the blows, so much to react, doing himself/herself/itself escape a desperate invocation of help. To the solo to feel entirely that word Bob sragionò.
«Help? Do you need help now also? Do you believe me crazy? Or are you you to provoke me every time? Don't the slaps perhaps serve you to nothing today, does it perhaps serve you other, it is not true?» the churches in provocative way, dragging her/it in room.
Dafne was desperate, incapable to defend himself/herself/themselves. It was as him same bewaring the scene of the outside, and that could not be the man that had known and that you/he/she had brought her thousand times to graze the sky with a finger. That man that was her above and that it stripped her/it with fury, it dragged her/it to the hell. Its attempts to wriggle out himself/herself/themselves, increased the unheard of anger of Bob, that went on to its bleak intention. For Dafne, the sex with Bob had always been the idyllic dimension that succeeded in leveling the things. This time you/he/she would not be happened. Bob was punishing her/it with the saddest gesture. It tried to penetrate her/it with strength, forcing her/it in the most painful sexual relation of his/her life. Only the ring of the telephone put an end to that humiliating, how much unbearable experience. Bob didn't answer, but you/he/she chilled, as if of hit had returned in itself. Dafne was asunder, morally and physically. He had beaten her by now so many times, but never with that impetus, and you/he/she had ever tried to violate her/it to that way.
Bob had realized that Dafne would have been able to stop forgiving him/it and to suffer, looking for help. This the tormented one: Dafne was his and of nessun'altro. The whole night went by to the insignia of the pathetic excuses and the usual ones I will
change, howled to big voice. But this time it labored to look at her/it in the eyes, shame overhung him/it.
«Tonight I have understood that I can lose indeed you; when you have howled" help" you have killed me Daf. I have understood that you hold me a monster, a man from which to run away. And I become me account that I/you/they am him/it. But I want to change, to understand what is happening me, before is too late.»
Dafne was reduced badly. This time the signs of the violence were evident, and you/they would have remained him/it for days. And those internal would not perhaps have gone away never. This trapped her/it in an unbelievable paradox. He/she didn't succeed only even in thinking about leaving him/it, because it loved him/it, always able to believe in his/her excuses. At the same time it was full of livid and, considering to that moments, it tried disgust. Bob had also dirtied their untouchable agreement that in which you/they melted soul and body. He asked her to strike him/it, he/she asked her to return him the physical evil that had inflicted her, the churches even to make the love, this time as their solo they knew how to do.
«Bob I love you to die but I am afraid» confided her, lost in a resigned weeping «first were another, were not you! You the you are not at all taken. It was a normal divergence, as happens to so many couples. Instead we am ended on this bed, with tore me to you the laundry of back! You have looked for.»
Dafne didn't succeed in concluding. If the telephone had not brought him/it in itself, he would have raped her, and she didn't even succeed in saying him/it. You/he/she would have been as to everything admit him/it to herself. Dafne would have preferred to have to whether to do with times and times of kicks and fists, rather than with that attempt of violence. In his/her unconscious you/he/she would have preferred even to be raped by a stranger, that to risk that abuse from the man of his/her life. Yet the love for him was, inexplicably, stronger. It was as if those violences fed him/it. Bob his/her mind and his/her heart; he succeeded in always giving her a good hope to go on, while the things, in reality, they worsened. To be with him had become painful, but even more spine-chilling it was the perspective to be without. Dafne had to do with one of that men that probably you/they would never be changed, that would have dominated her making her/it succube. It was as if it didn't have full conscience of all of this that suffered, even though aware that after the cohabitation, his/her man was turned into another person. Despite everything it was as if you/he/she could not do to anymore of it less, managed from useless senses of guilt and from an inexplicable unchanged feeling. Theirs seemed to be, from both the parts, a real sick love.