She was nursing her swollen knee and black eye when her cell phone lit up in her passenger seat.

"Baby I'm sorry, come back home. I love you."
His words were so sweet, but tears filled her eyes.

"I love you too. I'm sorry. It was my fault."
And that was the truth.
It was my fault.
It was always my fault.
I should know by now,
It's not his fault that I'm
Stupid
Clumsy

Ugly

Obnoxious


...
But this is just how it's always been.
This is how it always went.
Another fight.
Another cry.
Another packed bag.
Another insincere text.
"Baby I'm back! I'm so sorr-"
Another hit.
Another apology.
Another makeup.

Just another day.