"You didn't wish me happy birthday," he pronounced,  as he jerked his jaw to one side. The jaw twitch — one of his first telltale signs of displeasure.

"What?" I sputtered.

"You didn't wish me happy birthday," he emphasized again, his voice growing colder. The second sign — voice change. I knew what would follow next — the lick of the inside of his bottom lip...then, the flood.

I hesitated, choosing my next words carefully, trying to rein in the bulging eyes look I was giving him. Because yet again, I found myself frantically tripping and fumbling around inside of his distorted, twisted reality.
Why?! I wanted to exclaim. Maybe because we were broken up, because you threw my ottoman and smashed my window, tore down my curtains, hurled my keys at my face, and then left? Because instead of making sure I was okay, apologizing, or paying for the damage you incurred, you fled and lawyered up. I had to watch as you used an old girlfriend and paraded around a new one on social media within weeks of that night. I still had not heard from you when your birthday rolled around. I was terrified, in shock. I was still reeling from the events that occurred during the first few months of our relationship as though I had been plunged into an ice bath. 
But this didn't matter to him, I saw. I was wrong. I should have wished him happy birthday despite all of this.

"I hadn't heard from you. You were in a relationship," were the words I carefully selected, well aware of the words missing from my lips - their absence weighing heavily on me.

"I was upset," he continued.

I gave up. I gave up on trying to defend myself. A tactic I used to be ashamed of - along with silence and failing to hold him accountable for behaviors, but I now realize were necessary survival tactics. Tactics I used more frequently as our relationship progressed.

"In his mind, he was the poor, tortured victim. He did nothing wrong. Felt no remorse, no need to apologize, no need to be held accountable, and most importantly, no need to change. "

@as_i_sit_in_silence

Because I was never going to win. Convince him. Get him to see the error of his ways. Only anger him. Become more sleep deprived from late night circuitous arguments.

Because he was the creator of our reality. In his mind, he was the poor, tortured victim. He did nothing wrong. Felt no remorse, no need to apologize, no need to be held accountable, and most importantly, no need to change.

Abusers live in alternative universes of their own making. And they almost always have some sort of sob story. He had plenty.

Their sob stories are carefully woven narratives that make you forgive them for their behaviors and ignite cognitive dissonance battles inside your brain that cost you your sanity.

Survivors, I want you to know that despite the guilt and lies abuse instilled in your brain, it is okay to set boundaries. To say no. To use your recovery as an excuse. To not feel bad for or forgive your abuser or other toxic people despite their sob stories.

Because you don't owe the people who hurt you anything...

Including a "Happy Birthday."