When it comes to surviving, you're taught the rules in 3's. You can go 3 minutes without oxygen before you asphyxiate and die. You can go a little longer without water, just three days before your organs begin malfunctioning. If you're not of the best of health, three weeks without food could kill you. However, you have three whole months to live without love before you die.
These rules help you to remember your priorities in a dire situation. Like if you were escaping a jet crash in the middle of nowhere and you could only carry three days' worth of food or three days' worth of water. According to the rules, you would go for the water of course. It would help you survive a little longer.
I've never been in that kind of situation exactly. But it was close.
“I swear you get so tight when I do that,” he said breathlessly with his massive hands around my neck. David, my boyfriend. I love him so much. Even though he doesn't say it much, I know he loves me too. He is just into some really kinky stuff. It started out innocently enough with him playfully tying my hands to the bed and lightly spanking me. Then he was calling me names and having sex really hard with me. Then he began choking me. He was to intune with my body, he knew when I was about to come. He said it would make my orgasms just explode. They never did.
“Just one minute more. I'm almost there baby,” he said still pounding me furiously.
It had been two minutes. I had been uncomfortable for the past minute and a half. My lungs were burning. My entire body hurt. I just laid there trying to enjoy myself. I couldn't, so I started crying. He was oblivious to my pain. Thirty seconds left. We had a signal. When things were too much, I would stroke his ribcage. I had to choose between love and oxygen right there. I was weak, but I summoned all my strength to jab him in the side.
“Elle, what was that for! I was almost done,” yelled David instantly letting go of my neck. Those first few breaths were painful. They ripped down my throat like razor blades. I withdrew from him and curled into a ball crying desperately.
“Hey, baby... Baby! Something wrong with you?” he said shaking me by my shoulder.
“It hurts!” I screamed then cried even more into my hands. David's touch on me became more gentle and the tone of his voice softened.
“Oh, Elle, I'm so sorry. I got a little carried away. I can't believe I did that,” said David stroking my arm. I just shrugged him off.
“But you did. You hurt me. You always hurt me!” I screamed.
“I didn't know. I didn't mean to.”
“But you did. I went with what you said because I love you and I thought that you would return the feeling.”
“I'm so sorry. I'll make it up to you,” he said. He may have had meant well, but those are the emptiest words he could have said. My heart shattered right then. He tried to kiss and hold me, but his touching felt so disgusting that I pulled away.
“I never want to see you again,” I said shaking and scared to death. I heard him leave through the front door. My apartment was completely silent and it scared me. But I could finally breathe.
He left without taking any of his belongings. I never saw him again. In fact, his mother called me a few moths later to tell me that he killed himself. I didn't go to the funeral. It was my fault and I wouldn't dare show my face. I chose oxygen, forgoing water, food, and love.
