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November 9, 2006
She stumbles in the door and knocks over the vase on the table. Water runs away from the fading roses and along the edge of the table. She curses and throws the vase, missing me only because she falls as she lunges forward. She is crying. I move to her, I try to lift her from the floor and from this episode. Her eyes almost look pleading, but before I can kiss her she jerks away, and the violence erupts. Her fragile arms flail recklessly, and her balled fist catches me in the eye. I just cannot keep doing this.