If Looks Could Kill

Sure, we’ve all heard that saying before but how many of us have really put thought into what it is actually implying?  I’d assume a perfectly happy go lucky – dare I say – normal person just sees the passing comment as a whimsical way to describe someone who gave a dirty look to another person for whatever reason.  Maybe if you are standing next to some random person in a department store and they sneeze in your direction – that warrants one of those nasty looks of disgust that we may describe as such.  However, as a woman who has felt the wrath of abuse by none other than her own husband…my take on the phrase runs far deeper.

In the very early stages of my marriage, I was young and naive.  There was a part of me who a) thought he really didn’t mean it, and b) thought I could somehow change his ways.  That in itself is hysterically funny. Well, at least it is in hindsight. Poor little naive girl.  When the hate sunk in – and boy oh boy did it sink in deep – I prayed over and over for his death.  Nights when he went out with co-workers and came home late I sat there first pissed like who the fuck is he to come home whenever the hell he wants but I have to give him a freaking weeks notice for when I may be going out and get harassed about it every day until the day arrived. Oops, got a little sidetracked there. Sorry.  As I was saying, once I started to hate him from my very core, I prayed for his death and before he’d get home from wherever I pretended that instead of him coming to the door the police would come to inform me of a horrific accident that took his life.  I always wondered…upon hearing that news…would I smile or would I cry?  Would I laugh hysterically and ask the officers…is this real?  Would I feel the delight rise within me but muster up a tear for sake of the sad wife?  Would I then close the door and skip around my house with sheer joy??  Oh how I hoped and prayed.

Then at some point, I realized I was doing it all wrong.  How likely was it that he would be struck down just because I had wished it to be so?  We blow out candles and make a birthday wish every year.  How often do those wishes come true?  Actually, I used my birthday wishes for his death too.  Sometimes that he would just leave.  And some that I would eventually get my life back.  To date, the wish thing hasn’t worked either.  I figured all of this begging for his death was more likely keeping him alive.  That was by far the absolute last thing I wanted to do.  So I stopped.

Instead I began to imagine things in the middle of arguments.  He’d be screaming at me and I’d visualize me getting up and ramming a butcher knife into his throat.  I know, that’s pretty extreme.  On the nicer end of the spectrum I would just punch him in the face uncontrollably for far longer than I’d be able to in reality.  Then came along…the mafia.  I’ve always felt an admiration for those guys.  Yes, some of them are cold blooded killers but who cares.  We all have our issues.  Point being, I couldn’t get enough. The men we saw on the news being paraded into the courthouses with a smile on their face, knowing they would not be going to jail. Confident. Of course the movies glamorize it all and really give you a taste of what these guys have done.  Scenes of torture, death and dismemberment soothed me while my husband would go on and on.  He was on a rampage and I could see his mouth being taped up, his wrists being taped up, and him being bludgeoned before being cut into pieces.  Even with every name he was yelling at me…my soul felt calm and relaxed.  Keep talking mother fucker.

Again, I knew that all of the above was never really going to happen but damn it felt so good to imagine it all.  Drawn and quartered, suffocated with a pillow, poisoned, tied up and slowly removed body part -slowly- piece by piece, day by day. Small things at first, just for torture sake, so he could live through the pain.  Oh how I longed to hear the cries of torture.  Even now, sometimes I can see his skin being ripped from his body as he has one of his fits about his usual narcissistic bullshit.  Even better, when we go on vacation, we are usually on a lake with private access.  Such a shame…he can’t swim.  What a shame if we went out on a boat to fish and we tipped over….oopsie.

At the very, very least I imagine that he see the err of his ways and allow me to do everything to him that he has done to me.  The excitement that thought brings to my heart…indescribably priceless.  However, karma – the beautiful thing that it is – has started to come around.  He has had rheumatoid arthritis for quite a number of years now.  So he is always in pain.  It’s quite lovely, actually.  Just to sit back and hear him scream out in pain.  Especially this time of year with the cold weather upon us.  Yes, it is true, what goes around does come around.  He is only at the beginning stages.  Here’s to many more years of your suffering – fuckhead.

Somehow, I have a feeling I’m not the only one who has had these thoughts about their abuser.  What were yours?


To read from the beginning… my story starts here.

25 thoughts on “If Looks Could Kill

  1. Oh my, yes. I thought it would be lovely for him to end up on Dexter’s table, forced to look at pictures of all the people he hurt, knowing he’s going to die. Sigh. Lovely fantasies, I will admit. I don’t have them so much any more, but the occasional public humiliation daydream is still soothing 🙂


      • I haven’t outed my abuser. Yet. I may never reveal his name, but I do fantasize about it – he is really big on maintaining his Public Image. Used to chastise me all the time for my “bad behavior” and I would love to see him abandoned by all of his friends when the truth came out. Then again, I’m supposed to be “healing” and letting all that crap go. A good daydream is a hard habit to break, though…


      • I hear you. At some point it’s worth letting go of the thoughts of revenge in order to have piece of mind. My imagination has calmed down a lot. Now I just rejoice in hearing him snore early on a Friday night, knowing the rest of the night is going to be peaceful. I guess it really is the little things.


  2. ahem. . . just a couple points here: a) i’m the one who is maniacal here?? you’ve just admitted to far more than i ever suggested, or will admit to remembering suggesting; because as we both know, i am a peaceful, pacifist sort of person who hasn’t a violent thought in his head. b) i hope you caught while writing this the validation you’ve given to my contention that prayer is pissing in the wind as no one is listening, no on home. and c) that one of your friends, who shall remain nameless, Eunice, or Ethyl, or Gertrude, i can’t remember was suggesting just looking at him. i assume she meant employing “looks that could kill”. i suppose if enough of us simultaneously gave that look it might have the effect of the mafia driving up with machine guns and give him a little music to dance to. but in case it did not have the intended effect, i’m sure someone might be able to locate a 44-mag somewhere in the bottom of their purse.


      • look, between you and your friend, i am about to die laughing. although, she turned me on to her other blog, which i tried to comment and noticed none of my comments took. i guess she has it programmed to automatically reject men. i guess i’ll have to keep my comments to myself, or revisit the sex-change option.


      • oh, i see the plan clearly now! i’m a man, i’m a taurus, i’m automatically suspect and naturally deserving of elimination. but you can’t get to me any other way, so you have a conspiracy afoot to kill my by getting me to die laughing. i am on to both of you!!


      • Love it. You both have filled my day with laughter. It was already good enough since it was Friday but laughing hysterically tops the list.

        And Veronica…seriously, my cousin just got married and had 14 groomsmen!!! If you’re gonna do it go big or go home….and rest for the next batch of sexual candidates which sounds like basically anyone you know. Wow…sounds SO familiar!!

        Good night you two!!


      • It’s Friday night. I was gettin’ busy with the butcher and the baker and the candlestick maker…sheesh. Give a girl time to catch her breath!!!
        As far as this post…I’m certain every abused woman has fantasized death for her abuser. Just reading this made me think back to shutting the door behind my ex every morning thinking ‘will this be the day?’
        I, too, used to wonder if I’d laugh out loud. Horrible to admit but true!!!


      • hey, on the absolutely serious side – i would think something seriously wrong with you all for not entertaining those thoughts. i’m no model of morality, but i despise absolutely nothing more than men who are abusive in any fashion to women or children. now, i’ll let you get back to your trio of visitors.


  3. What did Nelson Mandela says about the people who imprisoned him for 27 years. “I do not hate them for if I did I would still be in their cell.” Hating those abusers only keeps them in control.. They are asleep souls and they do asleep things…


    • Yes, you’re right. My hate for him accomplished nothing. It took me years to realize that. My wording changed from I hate you to I don’t like you and/or I don’t love you. Hate would only keep me on his level. Instead of dealing with my hate he can deal with his fate. That will be a far greater punishment then anything my emotions can muster.


      • So very true.. He is the loser for he lost you. Now I don’t you but he truly lost. He caused suffering but that is because he has an overflowing of suffering. He should not be punished but helped. That being said, it is not your duty to help him.. Peace.


  4. I used to have similar thoughts. Then, one day I realized my biggest wish would be to have never met him or his family. To not have the horrific memories that I have. That would be the best wish come true for me. By the way, you may want to consider a career is writing criminal fiction 🙂


    • I have wished that too. People always say they don’t wish they never met or married a person because they wouldn’t have had their kids but that’s the least of it. To have never met him would be the ultimate wish come true. Lately, I have come more to the way of thinking that I wouldn’t have evolved into the person I am today had I not gone through this. And although the future is uncertain and the past has been less than exciting, I kind of like who I am today.

      As far as the writing goes, I have thought about a future in writing for a long time. I have numerous poems I want to get copyrighted and put together a book of what was happening in my life in retrospect to each poem. You can clearly see the style change from being with my Ex to being with my husband. Huge contrast. Criminal fiction may definitely be another avenue. I appreciate the compliment.


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