There's a difference between being alone and loneliness, I was told by someone not so important. I shrugged that thought off, thinking, what the hell is he talking about?

Now I know.

I am alone. I'm happy being alone.

When my abusive husband was taken away by the police, I was devastated. I stood in the middle of the room, my face unrecognizable, my heart racing. "This is it?" I kept asking myself and I felt myself sink. I felt sick, I wanted my husband to be in my life forever. I married out of love, I wanted to live with him for the rest of my life. But he had had other plans. He wanted to rule my life, he wanted a puppet. I am yet to understand whether he really loved me, but at that single moment, when I stood in the middle of the room, I felt lonely. I felt deserted. I felt abandoned. I felt cheated. I felt betrayed. Yet, I loved him. I wanted him. As I went through the motions of collecting my essentials, my mind raced. When will I see him again? What's happening?

That was my moment of loneliness.

Now, it's been almost a year since I've seen him. Have I missed him? Yes, terribly. I went through severe depression, I tried to understand what went wrong. I blamed myself. Perhaps, if I didn't tell him about my previous marriage, he'd have been okay. Perhaps, if I had cooked better meals, he'd have stopped hitting me. Perhaps, if I did as he said, he'd never have to rape me.

Those were my moments of loneliness.

I have finally decided that none of it was my fault. The abuse was not my fault. It was not my fault that he was apprehended for abusing me. It's not my fault that his life is 'over' as his friends keep insisting. If he cared so much about his life, he should have thought before he raised his hand. He should have thought about the consequences before he forced himself on me. None of that is my fault. I am now alone, but I'm not lonely. Do I miss him? Only sometimes. But when I imagine his face, I see the brutality in his eyes, I see his contoured face looking down at me, I see his fist punching my face over and over again.

Can I ever forgive him? Maybe. I've stopped hating him. I'm not lonely. I'm just alone.

Learn more about this author, Raya Chowdhury.
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