TWO WRONGS

She flinches when someone raises their hand near her. She has bruises that she tries to hide with make-up, sunglasses, her hair. This didn't happen because she's clumsy. And there's nothing she's done to deserve this. That's absurd.
It infuriates me. I want to find him. My "friend". Confront him. Hurt him like he hurts her. And worse. Much, much worse. He does deserve it.
But she doesn't want that. She loves him. She's a fool, but what can I do? Part of me wishes she'd never confided in me. Given me all of this responsibility that goes along with knowing the truth. It was easier to instinctively overlook the now obvious signs before she had to go and confide in me.
The random bruises. Occasional limping. The excuses. How could I not have acknowledged this? What kind of a person am I? It was so easy to accept the lame explanations. And the fact he was a friend... No friend of mine would do something so deplorable.
On some level, I must've known. Everyone did. But we took the easy way out by not accepting it. It wasn't our place. How convenient for us. Now that's not an option for me. Now I know. To not do anything, to continue ignoring it is impossible with this information. This proof.
I'm shaking. My stomach is turning. I have a lump in my throat. My heart goes out to her. Yet, on some level, I think it's her fault for staying with him. For taking it. Idiot. But she must've been scared. He's a bastard. He was a friend, goddamnit! How could I not know he was capable of this? How could I be such a bad judge of character?
I could end him. Or at least make him think twice before he laid another hand on her. Or would he then just take it out on her more? Would my violence, however righteous or justified, just perpetuate more violence? When does the cycle end?
...I want my ignorance back.