HA so these guys in the library were joking around and one is like “So when’s our date?” and they started discussing when and where and what. Then they hugged really hard and slowly pulled apart and just kind of stopped a second and the other was like “… you really gonna take me on a date?” and the first guy is like, “Uh… yeah, man I’ll take you on a date.” AND THE SECOND GUY SEEMED SO EXCITED GUYS I THINK I JUST WITNESSED THE BEGINNING OF SOMETHING BEAUTIFUL
“Our house was small, and when you grow up with domestic violence in a confined space you learn to gauge, very precisely, the temperature of situations. I knew exactly when the shouting was done and a hand was about to be raised – I also knew exactly when to insert a small body between the fist and her face, a skill no child should ever have to learn. Curiously, I never felt fear for myself and he never struck me, an odd moral imposition that would not allow him to strike a child. The situation was barely tolerable: I witnessed terrible things, which I knew were wrong, but there was nowhere to go for help. Worse, there were those who condoned the abuse. I heard police or ambulancemen, standing in our house, say, “She must have provoked him,” or, “Mrs Stewart, it takes two to make a fight.” They had no idea. The truth is my mother did nothing to deserve the violence she endured. She did not provoke my father, and even if she had, violence is an unacceptable way of dealing with conflict. Violence is a choice a man makes and he alone is responsible for it.”
