Letters to Those Whom I Love

Erik,

The last letter was to you also but things have changed because for three more hours it will be one year instead of nine months.
You are passed out drunk beside me right now after we just made love. I was shocked to feel your tears on my neck and I'll admit at first I thought it was sweat. I knew it wasn't when you lifted your head and a tear spilled out of your eye and you said you loved me.
For two days now you have drank because your cousins came from myrtle beach. Your heart is beating so fast that I am scared for your life. While you lay here asleep and snoring softly I will go back to those few months ago all the way up until today.
When I wrote that last letter to you I wrote it from my mom's phone. I hated you baby and sometimes I still do. It never got finished because you started texting me and I quit everything. You promised to change and you did. You stopped doing cocaine and hitting me except for a few times after now.
When I left my mom's house in the middle of the night on that fifth day I was gone, I got in the truck expecting a kiss or you talking but it was all silence. And that time I couldn't break it because I felt like I didn't know who you were.
You changed for a few days as far as not talking to bitches but you went right back to slowing your truck down and whistling. You went right back to flirting with every girl around. My heart broke all over again.
It is the same routine with you and me. Wake up and cook your lunch. You go to work and come home but you don't stay with me, you go to your friends. And when I am ready to go you tell me to shut up. When we finally make it home you turn on the tv and tell me not to talk.
On the weekends you get drunk with your friends and call me fat. You call me ugly and tell me you're in love with my best friend. At about four or five in the morning we go to sleep. When you wake up, no later than nine that I ever seen you take a shower and go to your friends. You start drinking again. You start calling me names again and then the same on Sunday. Monday morning I wake up and cook your lunch for the day.
I am tired of living this life but I know that I am not ready to give up yet.
Some days you and your best friend Ivan stay home from work and get shit faced drunk together while the whole time you tell me that I need to give beer and pick up the empty Corona bottles. I do it every time without a word because you like to remind me that I am fat and no one else will ever want me.
I don't know who I am anymore Erik. I don't know why I hate myself everyday and why I wake up every morning and have to ask myself what I am doing. I wish to die sometimes. But you do too.
Last night you hit me in front of six other Mexicans and not one of them did anything. You got in a fight with your "miga", which I hate you calling him that by the way and you punched him in the face. Then you fought Ivan admonished him down our steps. You came up to me and said fuck you bitch and left. I still don't know what I did. That was at three in the morning. Everyine left and went to drink at Ivans house and they drank until seven. Ivan came over and woke you up at eight thirty to drink.
We went and got something to eat. All seven of us went and you didn't even sit by me. When we got home all of you bought a twelve pack of Corona and when that ran out we went to your friend Juniors house.
You went over to find America and beat him up because the second time I left for telling me to sit in the back while my best friend Allie was up front America said he wanted to fuck me. America is my mom's husband sweetheart, you can't fight him.
We left and came back home but not before you stopped by your other friends house to see if he wanted to drink. Us said just one and when he left baby we made love.
Who are you? All I know is you're from Veracruz, Mexico and your real name. All I know is you're thirty but told me you're twenty eight. All I know is you like orange. My point is I have been with you one year and I know nothing about you.
The sad part is I'm pregnant and I don't even want to tell you because I might leave just so my baby can have the life it deserves.
I love you but if this child makes it then I will love it more. Please don't hit me in my stomach and call me fat anymore. Please don't rip my heart out piece by piece, if you don't want it anymore tell me so I can go now because when you say you love me, you don't know at thirty years old what love is.

Te amo mucho mi Amor y siempre,
Tu novia
P.s. Your heart feels like it will beat out of your chest.