One of the first rules that I learned, was that I was always to leave the room when he logged onto his computer. Even though I knew of his penchant for sadism, I knew that it must hold secrets.
One night he fell asleep and had forgotten to log off his computer. Being the risk-taker that I am, I decided to poke around in all his photos while he slept. He loved photos. Loved porn. He especially loved pics of naked women in compromising positions. In particular, fetish photography. It always bothered me and made me feel insecure. I wondered why I wasn’t enough for him. Why he needed to look at thousands of photos of women to feel happy, but I felt happy with only him. It made me feel like I was less than, ugly, and unworthy all the time.
What I found that night left me shellshocked. It was in a folder titled “furniture .” In it, were some photos of various pieces of furniture, but there was also another folder titled “house.” In that, there were about ten photos of a home inside and exterior as well as another folder called “birds.” It went on this way such that there were many embedded folders perhaps twenty deep. At the core folder I found an unlabeled folder containing photos of a woman who had sustained severe trauma to her body. Wide circular hematomas across her abdomen and kidney area maybe 6-9 inches in diameter. Dark purple bruising on her thighs and buttocks. Most bruises were bright purple , others on her body were blue. The man’s hand next to the woman’s body in some of the photos was sporting a watch which I immediately recognized as my boyfriends. I knew this was his handiwork. What I didn’t know was whether this woman was deceased.
I heard him stirring in bed and calling my name and all I had time to do was to minimize the screen on the pc and run back to bed.
“I’m sorry,” I said.
“Sorry you got caught or sorry for what you found.”
“I’m scared at what I found on your computer.”
“What scared you.”
“The woman with all the bruises.”
“Is she dead?”
Everything that happened, she wanted to happen. It was all consensual.
What exactly happened?
She asked me to close fist punch her. She was coming out of a very painful divorce and was in a lot of emotional pain. She wanted to experiment and try something like this. To take away her emotional pain.
I don’t believe that someone would want something like that. She could have gotten internal injuries with where you hit her. Whether she wanted it or not you could have been dealing with a homocide.
I can assure you I went back and checked on her many times. Would you like me me to call her? I can tell you that she is very much alive.
Once again, I knew that whomever he would dig up on a phone line it wasn’t necessarily going to be the woman in the photos. My mind raced,’Who would WANT to be close fist punched like that over their spleen and liver and kidneys?’
Nothing added up.
Yet, I continued to stay with him. Partly it was major denial….. because it was too hard to wrap my head around that he could have done it. The majority of the time he was funny, gentle, kind, witty etc. Partly it was fear…..because I was scared that if he was indeed dangerous and if I left maybe he would hurt me for leaving. But mainly for the obvious reason that no one wants to see. When you love someone, you want to believe that after so many years in with this person, that they love you back. That it couldn’t have been all fake. And because he’s not doing that monstrous thing that he did to that lady in the photos to me.
Then comes the horrific afterthought, “yet.”