Eiswein

A dull ache on your cheek; the stench of sweat and hard liquor; the figure towering over you, a scowling gaze cast downwards. A scene you had experienced again and again. You knew not to look into her eyes when she was like this. It only made her angrier. A slurred insult passed her lips, but your mind was elsewhere, anywhere but here. The words you could ignore, learn to filter out, but the beatings were a different matter.

She kicks you again, and you're sent sprawling to the floor. As you lay there, you can see down the hallway into another room, two small figures are anxiously peering out from a doorway. You're glad. You're glad you are the one in pain, and not them. If it's for them, you can endure anything. You feel another kick - this time to the stomach and it triggers a coughing fit as wayward stomach juices rise to your throat and the wind is knocked out of you. As you lay there clutching your stomach and sputtering, your wife looks down at you, her expression murky and unclear. When your fit subsites, she turns her back to you and walks away towards the living room. You thank God it's over for now. There was a time when each beating would tear your heart apart, but by now you've become numb even to the sadness. But even so, somewhere in the back of your mind you hope your wife will be better one day, like she used to be. You hold that wish close to your heart as you think of sunnier days with her - with Lamy.

You first met her almost half a decade ago when you became her manager at HoloLive. You spent your days helping her set up streams and organize collabs and over time you grew close to each other, and entered a relationship. Time passed and you got married, even had children – twins, a boy and a girl. Those days you spent together were true bliss.

But as with all other things, this happiness didn't last. Thinking back, you can't recall any singular reason for Lamy's change in disposition, was it stress from work? Having to raise two kids while keeping up her idol work? Regardless, it seemed that Lamy took to alcohol for comfort more and more and things eventually spiraled into full blown alcoholism.

At first it was relatively benign, Lamy had always had a fondness for alcohol, and so one or two more days a week of heavy drinking didn't seem too uncommon, but soon Lamy was spending entire weeks at a time in a drunken stupor, doing little aside from drink and sleep. To say that it was hard on you and the kids would be an understatement, and yet you put up with it. For every few weeks that Lamy would spend completely drunk, the following weeks of sobriety made it seem like everything would be OK. That things could go back to normal.

But that did not happen, instead Lamy's drinking continued as it had, until it even began to eat into your finances, and inevitable consequence of the weeks she spent not streaming every month. It was exactly then, when her money ran out, and she could no longer go and buy more alcohol, that things got even worse.

It began with begging, asking you for money so she could go and get another bottle of sake. But when you refused, she took things further into full blown harassment. At night, she wouldn't let you sleep, turning on the lights in the bedroom, sitting on the edge of the bed and asking you for money until you relented, just so you could at least sleep a little bit. This continued for a while, until you finally had enough and made up your mind to not enable her any further. At first things went as you had come to expect, more begging, pleading and general pestering. For a time it worked, and Lamy gave up on asking you for money, instead asking her co-workers to lend her some cash. You thought that if this kept up, perhaps she would have no choice but to change.

And change she did, but not for the better. One yet another night when Lamy's drinking funds had run out, you were about to go to bed, when Lamy walked into the bedroom. At first you thought she would try begging once more, but you were soon divested of such notions when instead she slapped you in the face. Hard. Many thoughts and feelings ran through your head in that moment – shock, indignation, betrayal. But you had no time to consider them, as Lamy grabbed you by the hair and roughly pulled you towards her. You yelped in pain. How was she this strong?

Lamy looked you in the eyes and spoke in an even and hushed tone, though her eyes seemed to you cold as ice:

“Ne darling, can you please give me some money?”

You didn't answer her question, instead complaining that it hurt and for her to let you go. Lamy said nothing, but slowly released her grip on your hair. You momentarily recoiled away from her, and then yelled at her:

“Lamy, what the hell is wrong with you?! You can't get me to give you money by asking so now you resort to violence?!”

Lamy said nothing, and but for the barest hint of a twitch in her left eye didn't seem to react at all to your words. You spoke once again.

“This is completely out of line, Lamy! I've been trying to be supportive and help you, but if this is how you're going to be I can't be here with you, and neither can the k-”

Lamy interrupted you with another backhanded blow. The force of it was enough to knock you onto your knees. You barely had time to register what had just happened before Lamy kicked you in the stomach. You fell on your side, clutching your gut and gasping for air.

“Just give me some money, and I'll stop. I don't want to keep hurting you.” Lamy said, her voice dripping with ice.

You refused, and this time Lamy rolled you on your back and slapped you in the face once more, hard enough to leave a painful red welt. Once more Lamy demanded you give her money, and once more you refused. Another painful slap. This continued for some time, until you could do more than acquiesce to her demands as you took your wallet from within the nightstand and gave her its contents. Lamy said nothing to you and merely walked away. Eventually you heard the slam of the front door. You could do nothing but curl up into a ball and cry. You were certain your kids had heard the altercation from their bedroom.

From there things carried on much the same as they had before. Lamy drank for a while, and when the the money you gave her too ran out, she eventually sobered up. While sober, she apologized profusely, begging you to forgive her and promising she'd never do something like that again, that she loved you. You believed her.

But in time, it did happen again, and again. And soon it was simply the new normal. From there, things escalated more, eventually Lamy's violence towards you became simply another facet of her alcoholism, as she poured out all her frustrations and anger on you. One time, when you and Lamy were arguing and she once again hit you, your son rushed in and shouted at her to stop hitting dad. Lamy then turned her anger on her son, and slapped him across the face. You quickly rushed over and put yourself between them, begging her to not hit the kids, that you'd take it instead.

And so your life went. Weeks of drunkenness and abuse followed by sobriety and promises of repentance and love for you. You wanted desperately to believe, and so you kept on going each time, with the hope that “this time” would be different. That “this time” she would truly change and get her act together.

You still tell yourself that. Even now, you can't bring yourself to leave her. No matter the pain you feel on your body, and in your heart, you just tell yourself that.

“This time, will be different”