he saw

he raised his hand to her
she flinched...
he saw,
for the first time...
he saw her flinch and it did something to him...
it shamed him in a way nothing else could...
for a moment, finally, he saw himself through her eyes,
through her pain...pain he himself had caused...
and then, he saw his past...
he remembered his father hitting his mother...
the alcohol on his breath not enough to numb
the pain in that man's heart
and the bruises on his mother's face,
nothing like the bruises scarring her weary soul...
he saw his woman flinch and it was enough to make him
lower his fist...
make him look deeper into his wounded self...
it made him be accountable...for the first time in forever...
he took a step toward responsibility...
he took a step toward healing...
and after much work...
and after much honesty and deep, deep reflection...
the next time he raised his hand...
she didn't flinch...
he placed his hand on her beautiful face
and he cherished her...
and...
he cherished himself...