What is love? Love is an intense feeling of deep affection, according to the dictionary. My definition of love is pain, it’s pain because you’re never going to know the outcome of it, you fall in love with someone and sharp pieces of glass go into your heart, you start to struggle for life, you try to hold on to the last bit of heart that you have in your body and then it starts to tear, and there you are, slowly drifting away from everything you once claimed to love, but does no one seem to notice the pain you’re going through? No, they don’t notice any of it, and that is because you hide those feelings from everyone, you don’t show the pain you go through every single day, the suffering you do every day, the amount of crying you do each night, you smile, you smile at everyone to show that you are “fine”, they have no idea that you took four sleeping pills that one night instead of one, they have no idea that you have scars that stretch miles and miles across your body, but you still say that you are fine? Why? Why does one need to tell someone they are fine when they are hurting deeply inside? You’re scared, you’re scared that they haven’t been through the position you have been through, that they haven’t had their heart torn into millions of pieces, that you’re the only one who is going through this, but you’re not, each person is broken, they may not have the same situation that you do but they are suffering just as much. Love is disappointing.
Above me was a sign that read “Domestic Violence Group”. Every day I read this sign and every day I pass it. I want to go in but if he ever found out he’d hurt me. My name is Emily Thomas and I am a victim of domestic violence. I’ve been married to my husband for seventeen years and he is an alcoholic. It’s been about seven years since he first started beating me, but i’m in love with him and can bare the pain just for I can be with him. I have had thoughts about telling people the situation but he had told me if I ever tell anyone he would kill me. I work at Walmart, stocking the shelves. Each day I have to cover the bruises and cuts with makeup but in the end I think it’s making me a stronger person. Some people might think that I am crazy for staying with a man that beats me but they understand nothing about love. I would do anything just to have him. When he beats me it’s around midnight, when he gets back from the bar. He yells at me and tells me that I am ugly and he wished that I was dead. He doesn’t really show me affection so I sew a doll and made it look just like him. Sometimes I even pretend that he’s trying to kiss me and I playfully push him back and giggle. When I was twenty six I was diagnosed with schizophrenia and the only people that know are my parents. I am now forty two and I don’t think I have it anymore. I don’t take any medication because it makes it worse. I get lots of stares when I go out in public and I don’t know why they stare i’m a normal person. I tend to have dreams about killing myself I don’t know why that happens but when I wake up I go to the restroom and smile in the mirror to tell myself that I am happy and wouldn’t do such a thing. One time I saw my husband's phone and it said “Shelby” with a bunch of hearts next to it. I asked him about it and he slapped me. I don’t feel anything when he hits me besides love. He loves me so much and I love him. If he ever divorced me I would be very upset. One time he found the doll I made that looked just like him and he tossed it in the trash but I got it out when he left the house and hid it in a box will all of his things I kept. I love him so much and I would do anything for him. One day I was working at Walmart and my boss told me that I should go to the address written on the paper he gave me, so I did and it was a mental hospital. I called him and asked him what to do here and he said talk to someone at the front desk, so I did. The lady was very nice and gave me a packet that said to live here would cost me 5,000 I asked her why I would want to live here when my husband loves me and wouldn’t want me to live anywhere else, then I walked out. My husband acts very strange towards me, he treats me like i’m a special kid, I don’t know why there’s nothing wrong with me. One day I saw him crying while holding a picture of our wedding day. I asked him why he was crying and he kicked me out of the room. People treat me differently than an ordinary person and I don’t like it that much. About a day ago I got in trouble by the chief because I was talking when it was lights out. He made me run five miles the next day but I didn’t care because my husband was cheering me on. I love when he cheers me on and he sleeps next to me in a tiny bed that’s metal and it’s very packed but I do not care because I love him. My husband seems to have changed throughout the years, he doesn’t beat me anymore and is always by my side now. I like when he is always by my side. We share a room with a lesbian and she has sexual relations with me every night but my husband is right by me so it doesn’t matter if he is happy with it. I get yelled at a lot for talking to my husband because i’m not aloud to communicate with the boys in the metal house i’m staying at, but they let him sleep with me so I don’t mind it. One time I accidentally stabbed this one girl in the eye with a fork because my husband was tickling me and it made me jerk and I told the girl sorry but I haven’t seen her since I did that and I feel bad and want to be friends with her. I remember people crying one day but I don’t remember why they were they were crying it was my husband’s family and the seemed to have been screaming at me but I did nothing and I was very confused. I remember flashing lights and it was like Christmas so I started to sing Christmas music and the police made me lay down on the floor and it smelled like metal on the floor because I had spilled my wine on the carpet. My birthday had passed and I was fifty two and my husband threw a party for me and I was very happy. My chief said that I wasn’t allowed to leave the metal house ever again and I got very mad because I wanted to see my boss at Walmart because he had come over when I spilled my wine on the carpet and I haven’t seen him since then. I saw the lesbian hanging from the ceiling one day and I thought it looked cool because she looked like a Christmas ornament. I got a new roommate and I don’t know where my friend went. My new roommate was black and she was very mean because she hit me and I didn’t feel love but my husband didn’t try to stop her either and then I went to sleep. I woke up and I was in a nice bed with a metal connected to me. It scared me so I ripped it on then a whole lot of beeping noises came and everyone ran in and started to panick. I went back to sleep and dreamt of my husband being dead and I didn’t like it so I woke back up. I went to look in the mirror and I saw my grandma she looked very aged and I was happy to see her so I started talking to her then the people got mad at me for talking to her and chained me to my bed. They had put a movie on and it was about a forty two year old girl who killed her husband and boss when the boss was trying to help the girl stop hitting her husband so she shot them both. I really liked the concept of this movie and asked them what it was called they said “The Story of Emily Thomas”. I was really confused when they said this because that was my name but I didn’t do that to my husband or boss. I asked them if it was another girl named Emily and they told me no. I screamed at them and said that it’s not true because my husband was standing right beside me and they told me that it was only my imagination and when I turned to look at my loving husband he was gone. I took the metal pieces out of my arm again and ran out the door. I was slowly becoming more tired and tired after each step. I went to sleep. I heard them talking while I was sleeping and thought it was very rude but I was still listening. They said “Emily Thomas just woke up from her coma and seemed to have freaked out, being eighty five she is very weak and needs to stay in the hospital because she is dying.” eighty five? I’m only fifty. I only went to sleep for about an hour. I woke up and told them that they got my age wrong and they said that it was right. They told me that I was in a coma for thirty five years and I woke up from the coma today. I told them that they were wrong about everything, I never killed my husband or boss and my husband beats me and that I was fifty. They said I killed my husband and boss and he never once touched me that I beat him the whole time and that I would punch and hit myself to make it seem like I had been abused by my husband. I grabbed the metal piece inside of my arm and stabbed it in the nurse's eye. I did that and I remember doing it to. I didn’t want her telling me lies anymore and every time I denied it she would tell me that I was wrong and I knew I wasn’t wrong I would never do that because I love my husband and my boss. Everyone started running into the room and grabbed me and started to drag me and it reminded me of when my husband used to do it and I was happy. They had told me that I was going to be stuck in a metal box and was going to stay there and I did not want to because my husband wasn’t going to be there so when they were busy I ran and left the building. I didn’t know where I was and I wanted my husband but I didn’t know where he was. I started to touch my head and i saw blood and my hair was connected to the blood. Who ripped my hair out? I started to climb a tree and was going to stay there until my husband found me. I started to see flashbacks and I saw me killing my husband. What is this daydream that i’m having? This is such nonsense the nurse’s words are getting into my head and I keep on seeing me killing him over and over again. I wanted it to stop. I wanted my husband beside me. Where are you? Stop hiding from me you silly goose. I know you’re playing hide and seek. Where are you baby. I was playing hide and seek with my husband now and I was trying to find him. I look over the highway bridge to try and find my husband. The people from the place were there and I told them that he was hiding under the bridge being silly. They started to walk closer to me so I put one leg off of the bridge and they started to scream. I told them he was hiding and I was going to find him. They told me to get back up but I didn’t listen because I wanted my husband. I put the other leg off and jump down. 
Emily Thomas an eighty five year old woman tragically died from jumping off a highway bridge saying that her dead husband that she murdered forty years ago was under the bridge playing hide and seek with her. She jumped off and she splat at the bottom of the bridge. What a sad story, back to you Ryan.