I would love to be in an incredibly abusive relationship with Hama.
When seen out and about, people would look at us and think we were a charming, happy couple. They would marvel at the small, happy girl, and how lucky her man is to have her. Men would be jealous, and women would be full of humble admiration. Hama's plucky smile warms their hearts, all.
But when the doors to our house close, Hama becomes a monster, torturing me brutally for the smallest of mistakes. I must tread on eggshells constantly, as even a wrong glance can result in prompt punishment. When the end of the day comes, and Hama falls asleep in my arms, she knows I love her the more for every beating, and for all the blood spilt.
I cannot kiss her forehead, because it might wake her and result in another round of torture, but I quietly sniff her and breathe in her sweet air.