Author: LL30s

During that holiday visit, one of the other ways her boyfriend tried to mend things between the two of them was to suggest that she meet up with friends and he would stay at her parent’s place while she was out. This was extremely uncharacteristic of his typical possessive, controlling, jealous behaviour. However, a girl’s night was exactly what she needed so she jumped at the opportunity to get away.

She arranged a dinner date with two of her best friends and didn’t even wait until they were seated before she told them she wanted to end things with her boyfriend. Saying her friends were skeptical would be the understatement of the century. They had heard it all before and had very little faith in her plan. She explained that she wanted to wait until January to end things. She also explained that legally she was required to give two months notice for leaving her apartment. That would bring her to the end of March. She planned to give notice to her landlord, give notice at work, but hoped to stay until then so she could pack up what she needed at her own pace, and would also allow her more time with her dog.

That was the other thing. The underlying reality of what leaving him really meant; she would likely have to leave her dog as well.

Her friends, while hopeful that this this was for real, were hesitant about the execution of her plan. They knew that if she stayed those extra two months that she would never leave. They told her that if she was going to do it, she had to just rip off the Band-Aid and do it.

Christmas holidays came to an end, the new year was upon them. “2020 is going to be the best year ever!” she thought to herself. Ah, how naive she was.

They were home two days before the anniversary of his dad’s passing. They barely talked about him on that day. She went back to work on the Monday and planned to end things that coming Friday. The entire week was a blur. She came home from work that Friday night, and he knew something was up. She had told him via text that day that she wanted to talk to him about something. He said that if it was something bad, he asked that she not bring it up that night. He wanted a nice, relaxing evening together. She wished she could do that, but the knot in he stomach was growing by the second. She had barely walked in the door before she found herself sitting on the couch, asking him to join her.

She began by telling him that she knew how hard he had been trying. She saw how great he was over Christmas holidays, and she hoped he would continue working on bettering himself. But, despite his efforts, she was ending it. Without really thinking, she said she would be staying until the end of January (not the end of March), but that she would pay for her half of rent and bills for the preceding two months. He panicked and expressed that he would be screwed and he wouldn’t have any money by April (He had been on unemployment since the Fall as his career was seasonal). She assured him she would pay her half for April as well, then. She would say whatever he needed to hear in order to make this all go smoothly.

Instead of losing his shit like he had done the last time she tried to end things, this time he cried and yelled and paced back and forth before grabbing his phone and locking himself in the spare bedroom. Through the door she could hear him saying, “She ended it. She broke up with me! What am I going to do?!” She knew he had called his sister and she was genuinely relieved. He always closed himself off from people so she was happy to see him reach out for help.

He talked to his sister for what seemed like hours on end, and when he came out, with tears streaming down his face, he said, “Well okay then. I understand and I’m so, so sorry.” She just burst in to tears. He wasn’t going to fight her. He wasn’t going to put her through anything else. He released his figurative grip on her and she could finally see the light at the end of the tunnel. For whatever his sister said to him, she was eternally grateful. She expressed that she wanted to take the dog, naively hoping he would just say yes. “Over my fucking dead body,” was his reply.

They agreed, however, that if ever there was a time that he would be unable to care for the dog – be it long hours at work, a relocation for him somewhere obscure, whatever it may be – if he could not care for her, she would be the one he would call. This was a big step forward from the last time she tried to end things when he said, “I would rather put her down or re-home her than ever give her to you.” Aside from that dagger to the heart knowing she couldn’t take her baby with her, the two of them were able to actually sit and talk and cry and grieve and reminisce about the good times. The entire weekend was spent crying and talking. She gave her notice at work that Monday and thus, the countdown to freedom was on.

Continue to Chapter Sixteen

She was furious. She had tried all. fucking. morning. to get a hold of him. His excuse was that his phone was on Do Not Disturb. That didn’t hold any water for her because he KNEW she was going to therapy. He KNEW she needed to get a hold of him. He CHOSE to ignore her.

She had never been so enraged in her entire life. Even throughout their entire relationship, all the fights they’d had; nothing they had ever gone through had made her as angry as she was in that moment. She grabbed her purse and stormed out. He wanted canned soup? He’d get canned soup! She was back at the grocery store before she knew it. She flew over to the popcorn aisle and bought herself 3 more bags of popcorn, and then went and grabbed 3 cans of soup. Her intention was to throw the soup at his head as soon as she walked in the door. Instead, she slammed them down on the counter and their fight continued.

He kept yelling at her. Just saying every horrible, hurtful thing he could think of. It was in that moment, she lost control of her all her senses. Looking back, she would describe it as an out of body experience. She could feel herself come up off her heels, hovering over him in this beast-like state, and she just let him have it. She screamed and yelled at him so loud that her throat became hoarse. The dog ran and hid in the bedroom. It took everything in her power not to beat him bloody and senseless. Even with that restraint, she found herself clawing at his throat uncontrollably, smacking and hitting him as hard as she could. She left scratches and blood all down his neck. She was in a blind rage and simply could not contain her anger and hatred for him any longer.

When she pulled her nails off of him and came back to her body, she stepped back in disbelief and refused to engage in this chaos any further. The fact that she just reacted in accordance with his typical behaviour instead of her own, actually really frightened her. She collected her purse off the floor and stormed out, slamming the door behind her as she raced down the stairs. Her cheeks were wet from the hot tears streaming down her face. She scrambled to get in the car, her hands shaking. The gravel sprayed as she took off out of the driveway. Turning the corner abruptly, barely slowing down at the stop sign, she realized she couldn’t drive in this frantic state and pulled into the gas station on the corner to catch her breath. Without thinking, she grabbed her phone and called in to work. She would not be clocking in for her afternoon shift. She sat there thinking. Crying. Crawling out of her skin with rage. “That’s it.” she said out loud to herself. And she meant it this time. Finally.

She sat at the gas station for several more minutes as she gathered her composure. Once she had put herself together, she drove back around the corner and pulled into the driveway. The door was locked. He was surprised to see her walk in. “Get the fuck out of here! You’re supposed to be at work!” he hollered at her as she hung her purse up. “I’m not going back to work. Fuck you.” She replied as the dog followed her into the bedroom and she closed the door. It would be a literal week before she spoke to him again. Aside from answering the odd question about the dog or bills or something, she couldn’t even look at him.

She knew she was going to leave him, but being that it was now mid-December, and despite all the bullshit he had put her through, she couldn’t bare to end things before Christmas. And even then, she knew that the anniversary of his dad’s passing was coming up in early January, and she still didn’t have the heart to end it before then either. Her plan was to just make it through Christmas and New Years, and after the death-aversary, she would do it. She would really, seriously, no word of a lie, break up with him. Until then, she would just have to shut up and power through. She had stayed with him through the misery for so many years, what difference would a couple more weeks make?

When she finally came around and decided to speak to him again, it was the same old thing. “I’m sorry,” “I have issues. I’m working on them,” “You’re so wonderful, I can’t lose you. You’re my everything.” Empty, worthless words she had heard a million times before. She ignored it all and just explained that she would be going to visit her family at Christmas with or without him. He said he wanted to come and that he would do whatever he could to make this all right. She pushed her feelings down and carried on the rest of the month as if things were back to normal. Christmas holidays were upon them so she, her boyfriend, and their dog, drove the 6 hours back to her home town.

And of course, it was a wonderful visit. He was calm, he was laid back, he was kind, he was helpful. He confided in her dad about troubles he was having. He confided in her mom about the loss of his mother at 16 years old and how it’s affected every aspect of his life. He apologized to both of them and thanked them for everything they’d done for him over the years. Her parents told her it was the best visit they had ever had with him. And she saw it. She saw him trying. But despite all his efforts, despite the strides she saw him attempt to make, she truly felt nothing for him at all any more. Not even hate or anger, more like indifference. He meant nothing to her anymore and she only had to wait a few more days until it was all over…

Continue to Chapter Fifteen

Back in the therapist’s office, they were asked a few introduction questions. She answered them as honestly as she thought she could without upsetting her boyfriend. He was more vague in his answers, shifting blame and playing things down. There was some truth in what he said, but she still felt that she got more out of the session than he did. As that first hour came to a close, the therapist expressed that she felt the following session would be more beneficial if they separated it in to two half hour solo sessions with her. They would each go in on their own and have the space they each needed to express themselves properly.

He didn’t say anything to the therapist, but she knew he wasn’t a fan of that idea. While, of course, she had no problem with it. They left the session and scheduled another one a month from then. As soon as they got in the car, he began berating her about how horrible the therapist was while simultaneously throwing things she had said back in her face.

“I knew it would be like that. I knew she would take your side on everything. And what do you mean you were desperate when you met me? That’s the only reason we’re together? You were desperate?!” To her surprise, however, he didn’t write it off right then. He was angry but he was still willing to put in the work.

A month went by with some ups and downs, but overall it was fairly uneventful in regard to any fighting or big outbursts. The day of their next appointment, she came home from her morning shift to pick him up and they left right away for their session. Upon arrival, they found that the door was locked. Immediately he was angry. She ignored him and called the office. The receptionist answered and she asked why the door was locked.

“Oh. Do you have an appointment today?” the receptionist asked her. “Yes, that’s why we’re here…” she replied, trying not to be short with this idiot woman asking redundant questions. She knew that their predicament wasn’t the receptionists fault, but her guard was already up as she worried about her boyfriend’s reaction.

The receptionist came and unlocked the door. As they entered with her, she explained that all the counsellors and therapists were out at a training course that day. Someone was supposed to have contacted them to reschedule but no one had. She could see her boyfriend twitching, trying to keep his anger in check. He stated bluntly, “We should get a free session out of this. This is ridiculous. If we had canceled with no notice, we would have been charged, no question.”

To their surprise and delight, the Director (or whatever his title was) was standing in the back of the office and had heard the entire conversation. He came over and told them that her boyfriend was right, and he would be happy to comp them a free session at the next available opening in their therapist’s schedule. This satisfied everyone and they rescheduled the appointment for two weeks later. Even so, they left and he was not happy. “I’m never going to therapy again. They’re all fucked, they’re so unorganized. Fuck that.” So much for working on their relationship…

Throughout the next two weeks, things really started to unravel. They were fighting more and more. Their poor, anxious dog stuck in the middle of it, barking her head off and running back and forth across the apartment as they screamed at each other. He kept yo-yoing back and forth – he’s coming to therapy, no he’s not coming, yes he is coming, etc.

Their rescheduled appointment was on a Wednesday morning in early December. She went to work that morning and when getting in her car after her morning shift, she texted him; “I’m leaving now. Are you coming to therapy?” No reply. She got back to the apartment around 9am. He was still sleeping; the bedroom door was closed. Their appointment wasn’t until 11am so she sat down to watch a short show after having made herself a tea. For fear of him getting mad at her for what he would call “bursting in on him” and waking him up, she texted him again instead. “I’m going with or without you. But I hope you do come.” By the time she had to leave, he still hadn’t replied. Fuck him if he thought by ignoring her, she just wouldn’t go.

So she left. She went to the appointment alone. She spent the entire hour just bitching about him. Crying, shouting, justifying… After a few moments of silence, her therapist stated that she was not in the habit of telling couples they needed to break up. However, this was not a relationship she saw a future for. In fact, she even recommended moving her to the Domestic Violence folder. Doing so would allow her to continue coming to counselling at no cost to her. On one hand, she was happy to have the option to keep coming to counselling, on the other, it was a stark reality check that she was, in fact, in an abusive relationship. Until that moment, she had never said that word out loud to herself about him. She left feeling more confused than comforted.

The evening prior, during yet another fight, her boyfriend had angrily expressed that after the therapy session that he was refusing to go to, she was to come directly home so he could take the car to do groceries without her. She said she didn’t care, but that she had to stop at the post office before coming home so she could return a Christmas gift she had bought him that her mother had also bought. Walking to the parking lot as she left therapy, she texted him again. “Are you sure you don’t want me to come pick you up and we can grab some groceries together?” She headed over to the post office and checked her phone when she parked. Still no reply. She went in and waited ten minutes in line. She sent off the duplicate Christmas gift and headed back out to the parking lot. Checking her phone again, he still hadn’t replied. She decided then to go to the grocery store for herself and grab a few things since she wasn’t sure what his plan was.

As she pulled into the grocery store parking lot she sent him yet another text. “I just pulled in to the grocery store. I will leave right now to come get you and come back here again if you’d like? I don’t mind.” She waited in her car for several minutes. Again, no reply. So, she went and did a few groceries for herself. All the while, she picked up a few things for him as well. She knew he was out of bell peppers, baby carrots, and cereal. She wasn’t sure what else he needed but he said he was coming to do groceries by himself, so whatever she missed, he could grab afterwards. She didn’t take very long, and she headed back home.

She had barely dropped the grocery bags on the counter before he threw the bedroom door open, storming out of the darkness into the kitchen. He rummaged through the bags, tossing everything out in a frantic frenzy. “YOU COULDN’T GET ME ANYTHING?!?! IT’S ALL FOR YOU! YOU GOT YOURSELF TWO BAGS OF POPCORN BUT COULDN’T EVEN GET ME ANY CANS OF SOUP!?!!” he screamed at her. He grabbed one of the bags of popcorn and angrily, erratically, vigorously ripped it open. Popcorn flew all over the kitchen. In the sink. On the counter. Everywhere.

And that was it. That was the moment the rage set in and everything went dark…

Continue to Chapter Fourteen

Her boyfriend really seemed to be turning a corner. She knew she had fallen for it before, but he really seemed to be changing. Everything she felt at the wedding, all her intentions of really breaking free, seemed to melt away. They even had their first couple’s counselling session less than a month later.

She was so nervous as their new therapist lead them into her office. It had two chairs facing inwards, in between them a small wicker end table with a box of Kleenex on it, against a wall of lovely oversized windows. The therapist sat opposite them. She was a short, older woman. Short “Karen”-like haircut with side bangs. Loose, flowing, hippie-esque patterned clothing. It worked for her, though. Her attitude was very matter-of-fact. She used the term “no bullshit,” more than once. Her boyfriend was visibly pessimistic, but she remained hopeful that this would help them. Maybe they really could get through all of this and start living the life she wanted. They would finally be happy and she would get pregnant and have the children she so longed for. The fairy tale ending.

Many people might read all this and not understand why she stayed. Why, if she truly felt like leaving him and that she would be happier on her own, would she stay again and keep trying to make it work? Well, while all of this drama was taking place throughout her relationship, she and her boyfriend had also been trying to get pregnant.

From a practical, third party point of view, adding a child to this extremely toxic and volatile relationship would just be throwing a grenade towards an already explosive battlefield. But that wasn’t her concern. Since she was a young girl, she knew that the main reason she was put on this earth was to be a mother. She had baby-blinders on and was impervious to any kind of sound logic.

Her thought process was that she was already in her early 30’s and the window to get pregnant was closing faster and faster. At least with him, she had sperm on tap. Even if she didn’t stay with him once the baby was born, she took comfort in the notion that she would still at least have gotten a child out of this relationship. All her pain and hardship wouldn’t have been for nothing because in the end of it all, she would have become a mother.

They had tried to conceive on their own for several months when they had first moved up north, but to no avail. She took pregnancy test after test, always the same disappointing single line on the screen. So finally, despite his protests against it, she made an appointment at the nearby fertility clinic. After several tests and weeks of waiting, the results were in. While he was extremely fertile with extremely agile swimmers, she was diagnosed with PCOS, something she had never heard of in her entire life. She was informed that Polycystic Ovary Syndrome is a hormonal disorder common among many women. Women with this disorder may have infrequent or prolonged periods, or excess levels of the male hormone Androgen. The ovaries may also develop numerous small collections of fluid, also known as follicles, and thus fail to regularly release eggs.

All of a sudden, her entire menstrual history flashed before her eyes. It was extremely common for her to miss her period for several months, but she naively never thought anything of it. She was told that, in layman’s terms, she didn’t ovulate. No ovulation = no conception.

She was devastated, and her boyfriend didn’t help. When he should have been empathetic, he was cold. She felt like he blamed her for their trouble conceiving, as if she had control over her infertility. And yet, with the help of the fertility specialists, she felt a twinge of optimism. She immediately was given hormone pills to try to boost ovulation. She would use those for two months to try to conceive naturally again, and if that didn’t work, she could begin more aggressive treatments involving monitored hormone injections, and even invitro fertilization as a last resort. The figurative money signs were cha-chinging in her boyfriend’s head, as neither one of them currently had any work benefits to help cover the cost. This was not what either of them had in mind when they decided to try to get pregnant. This added significant pressure to both of them, making their already rocky relationship that much more unsteady.

Again, something that she had hoped would bring happiness and fulfillment to their lives, something she wanted more than anything in the entire world, was pulling them further and further apart…

Continue to Chapter Thirteen

Before she knew it, the weekend of her friend’s wedding was upon her. Not only was she looking forward to standing for her best friend in what would undoubtedly be one of the best days of her friends’ life, she was also looking forward to seeing her other friends – most of whom she hadn’t seen in some time. One friend in particular, actually.

A few months earlier, she received the most unexpected Facebook message from the friend that had “broken up” with her a few years prior. Her friend asked if they could arrange a time to chat on the phone, which of course she was happy to do. Her friend told her that she had been through a lot over those three years that they hadn’t spoken. She experienced new things and found that she had grown in many ways. One of which was realizing that everything that had happened between the two of them wasn’t reason enough not to be friends. They had been through so much growing up together, no man should have ever been able to come in between them. She was over the moon excited to hear from her, and apologized for her side of their friendship downfall as well.

They talked on the phone for hours. They laughed, they cried – they basically picked up from exactly where they had left off. It was one of the most uplifting and reassuring moments of her life. It gave her so much hope for herself. That phone call would be one of the catalysts to eventually put herself first in her own life. So it was a really big moment to finally see her friend again after so many years apart. It was the cherry on top of what she already knew would be a fantastic weekend, and such a magical day for her friends who were getting married.

And it was. She had more fun that weekend, and on that day, than she had had in years. She was in the company of people in her life that lit her up. People that oozed positive energy. And love. And kindness. These people – these amazing women that she was privileged and blessed enough to know, were just the life preserver she needed to come up to the surface from the toxic relationship she was drowning in. She felt like herself again for the first time in a long time. As she watched her beautiful friend walk down the aisle to marry the man of her dreams, she felt even more sure she didn’t want to continue wasting her life with a guy she knew she shouldn’t be with.

At the wedding, she felt so certain of her feelings about her failing relationship that she drunkenly flirted with one of the groomsmen and hoped to at least get in a tipsy little make out sesh. Both fortunately and unfortunately, though, he had a girlfriend. She was disappointed yet relieved. She didn’t want to be that person. The person who cheats because they’re desperately unhappy yet too cowardly to end it first. It was at the forefront of her mind for the rest of the weekend, and as she drove home she told herself she was ready to end it. For real this time. “He is a good person underneath it all, but I just can’t do this anymore”, she said out loud to herself, alone in the car. As the scenery out her window blurred by, she blasted her Boss Bitches playlist on her rental car’s sweet high-tech stereo and belted out those power ballads as tears rolled down her face.

As she pulled into the driveway, she braced herself for the inevitable return-from-a-weekend-away-fight. She had no intention of ending things that night (why do that to herself after a long, exhaustive weekend like that?), but she knew that he would have missed her that weekend and thus, he would be angry that she had gone in the first place. Throughout their entire relationship, he had never had any problems making her feel guilty for going to see her friends and family. And yet, when she went upstairs, she was greeted with nothing but smiles and hugs from him. And of course licks and cuddles and barks of joy from her beautiful dog/child. She was confused but relieved, and also extremely surprised when he even showed a sincere interest in her weekend by asking how everything went, without a hint of disdain or spite. “Don’t tell me now he decides to actually change for real?!” she thought as she tossed her bags into the bedroom and got down to play with her dog-daughter.

Continue to Chapter Twelve

Things started to get better. Little by little, day by day, she would see him trying. She would notice his efforts and made sure to tell him. Things actually started looking up. Now that she had made the choice to stay, it was time to really start looking for a job. Not even a week after that fight, she had an interview. By the end of that interview, she had a job. It was located further out of the city than she would have liked, and the buses only started at 9am which got her there closer to 10am. But the owner and supervisors loved her. They wanted her to work there so badly that they agreed to start her by working a 10am-6pm shift for the first month, and even offered to pay for half her cab fare home since the buses didn’t coincide well with her returning home at that time. The catch was that by the end of the first month, she would have to have a vehicle and be able to get herself to and from work for her actual shift which was a split, 7:45am-9am and 2:45pm-5:45pm. She came home from the interview with all the details and explained to her boyfriend the conditions of her job offer. He seemed thrilled for her and promised that by the end of the month, he would have bought them a car. This is something that they had been wanting to do since her car had died in the driveway over a year prior. She was starting to feel like this could actually all work out.

That first month at her new job flew by in a flash. Her bosses loved her, her co-workers loved her, her skills in her field were being valued and she was able to bestow her knowledge and experience on her colleagues. She felt good about herself for the first time since moving there. But as the end of the month approached, the anxiety of not having a car crept up further and further. Whenever she asked her boyfriend about it, she could see the anxiety and anger bubbling in his eyes, but he would try to remain calm when he expressed his concerns about it. He felt that he still didn’t have enough money to buy a suitable vehicle. She explained that he didn’t have to buy something outright. They could put down a significant down payment with whatever amount of money he did have, and then they could make small payments until it was paid off completely. That wasn’t good enough for him. He wanted a new vehicle, paid outright, no matter what.

One afternoon, she got a text from him saying that he had bought a car and that it would be ready the next day. He would be at work, though, so she would have to go pick it up between her shifts. She didn’t know how much the car cost; she didn’t even know he had looked at something. Once again, as he did with their dog, he made a significant purchase without her knowledge or input. Still, she was relieved to finally have a vehicle and was excited to start driving again. The next day she cabbed 35 minutes from her work out to the dealership and was less than impressed with the car she was presented with. It was a 2012 Chevy Cruze. On the whole, it was a nice car – except for the dent on the drivers’ side door, and on the rear bumper. She was also informed that the front windshield defrost didn’t work. Gee, she sure was glad he bought this shit box out right! Still, it would get her from point A to point B and she was grateful that he had finally put his money where his mouth was and bought them their new (used) vehicle.

She ensured that her name would also be on the ownership, despite her boyfriend paying for it. She knew that if she didn’t do that, if they did fight about something, he could easily refuse to let her use it. Even so, when it came time for her to leave for her friends’ wedding that September, he made it clear that she was not allowed to drive their car there. Instead, she was left to rent a car at full price – he didn’t even let her use some of the rental points he had racked up with his work truck. All the more reason for her to be excited to be away from him that weekend.

Despite the car issue, in the months leading up to the wedding, her boyfriend had showed some effort in the right direction. However, he had still been putting off finding a counselor. His reasoning was that it was too expensive, and he was waiting for her benefits to start at work so he could see someone at a more reasonable rate. “A logical excuse”, she rationalized. Instead, he worked on himself on his own. He read self help books, mindfulness books. He actively tried to be more patient with her, and in general. She saw the effort and she was grateful for it. She was happy for him that he was working so hard to become a more well rounded version of himself.

But it wasn’t enough. She knew in her heart that any romantic feelings she might have had for him once, were long gone. Too much had happened, she felt. Yet, even knowing her true feelings, she still kept trying. Even then, if asked, she would not have had a good enough reason (aside from the dog) for why she was staying with him. Her blind hope that this time would be different, is what kept her there. Of all the other times before that he said he would change, promised he’d do better, swore up and down that he was sorry for how he treated her – THIS was the time he would actually follow through. This had to be the time, otherwise what even was her life? If she wasn’t in this relationship, who was she? How far had she come in her life just to be in the exact same place that she was when she met him? She had nothing to show for her wasted youth, so this relationship was it. It had to work out. It just had to.

Continue to Chapter Eleven

He continued working long hours while she was then left with the task of training this beautiful new addition to their lives. In those first few days, she became a mother. This dog became her whole life. She loved her with every fibre of her being and yet, she struggled. Having lived the first three months of her life on a farm, combined with the breed of dog being highly intelligent and hyper sensitive, this puppy was afraid of everything. They lived in a fairly industrial area and all the loud noises and cars passing by would terrify her. Unless they were in the safety of the backyard, this puppy refused to go outside and would never let her take her for walks. Her frustration grew and grew. She felt like she was failing this dog. If she didn’t get her going on walks, this dog would continue to be afraid for the rest of her life and it would be difficult to do anything one would normally do with a dog. She expressed her frustrations to her boyfriend who, again, had little to no empathy regarding her situation. He mocked her and basically told her he could do a better job in his sleep. Then, when he would try to train her and would get the same disappointing results, he would blame her for being a terrible puppy trainer and would make her feel worse than she already did. This dog, that was meant to bring joy into their lives, was just exacerbating their already tumultuous situation.

A year went by. Their puppy eventually got a bit better on leash and would at least go for walks in the safety of a dog park or track. Still, their fighting got worse and worse. She thought about leaving him all the time. She fantasized about a life of freedom, away from his controlling behaviour and toxic masculinity. But she couldn’t leave her baby. She would just take on all his bullshit because the love and maternal bond she had with this dog was too strong to allow her to go. And then, something clicked in her head. If she was going to stay, there was no point arguing with him. His irrational outbursts, his paranoia, his anger and disdain for her and for society as a whole; there was no reason to keep fighting with him about any of it. He never heard her. He never saw her point. He was just an angry, unhappy little boy taking out all his frustrations and trauma on her. It was then that she had the realization that she would be a lot happier if she just tuned him out. No one can be sure why it took her so long to realize this, but once she did, her life started to change for the better. She stopped taking on the burden of his roller coaster emotions and she could feel herself getting lighter. He would yell and scream at her and she would either ignore him and continue what she was doing, or she would leave the room. This angered him but he started to notice his behaviour more and more and, at times, actually seemed to be trying to change. And then he would be the same again. Any hope she had would always be squashed by another outburst.

A lot of what he always said his issue was throughout the relationship, was that what started out as a very sexually adventurous connection had turned into a boring, lack luster sex life. He hated that she was rarely, if ever, horny anymore. He hated that he had to beg her for sex. He hated that he would have to masturbate when there was a perfectly good vagina right in the next room. What he never seemed to understand, though, was that no one wants to have sex with someone that is mean to them. No one wants to be made to feel like complete shit, be told over and over again that they’re fat, ugly, and useless, and then have to spread their legs on command. He told her more than once that he was her last chance to have children and that no one else would ever want to fuck her. He told her that she was getting old and her time was running out and that if she ever wanted to be a mother, he was her only hope. Ooooooohhhh! Who else is turned on now?! … She definitely wasn’t.

So, one rainy Saturday in May, she finally got up the nerve to break up with him. She had written out everything she wanted to say to him, and she hoped against hope that he would let her take the dog. He sat down on the couch, completely clueless as to what was about to happen. She started reading and was less than a paragraph in before his anxiety sky-rocketed and he started freaking out. She told him to read what she wrote if he wasn’t able to listen to her say it. He read a little bit and then exploded. Screaming at her, yelling at her. He tore her Andy Warhol poster off the wall, he ripped up the art calendar he bought her for Christmas. He was terrifying. “GET OUT THEN!! LEAVE!! YOU’RE NOT WELCOME IN THIS APARTMENT ANYMORE!!” he screamed at her. She ran into the bedroom and scrambled to pack up what she could. She was so scared and disoriented that she threw her hiking backpack on her back, and then her coat on top of that. She didn’t even think to take her purse, she just wanted to get out of there.

It was raining harder. He had gone into the spare bedroom, still yelling and throwing shit. She panicked. He wasn’t looking, so she did what any mother would do. She scooped up that thirty-pound dog and ran away with her. It would have been easier if the dog walked on leash, but she was a terrible puppy trainer, remember? So she had to carry her. Running down the street, the dog weighing heavier and heavier on her arms, she could hear him screaming after her once he realized the dog was gone. She heard the truck door slam and the engine roar into gear. She only made it to the corner store, she couldn’t carry the dog any further. He pulled into the parking lot as the door closed behind her. She was drenched. The dog was petrified. The store owner rushed over and offered her help, just has her boyfriend burst in. He was calm. He was polite. He was apologetic. She felt trapped. She definitely didn’t want to involve all these other people in the situation, but she was afraid of what would happen if she went back. The overwhelming sense of defeat started to kick in. She thanked the store owner and apologized to him as she picked her puppy up again and got into the truck.

When they got home, they fought a little bit more, but they were both exhausted by everything that had happened that she went into the bedroom with the dog and he stayed out in the living room. They didn’t speak for much of the afternoon, but neither of them could ignore what had happened. She came out of the bedroom after a few hours and sat on the opposite end of the couch to him. They both started crying. He begged and pleaded for her to stay. He loved her and he was sorry for his horrible behaviour. He knew everything she said was right and he knew that he had to change. As much as she wanted to leave him, she loved him. He was her entire life, at that point. They had had so many good times together, along with the bad. She looked up at the picture frames that lined their living room walls. She had had so many firsts with him. And, despite his abusive behaviour, she knew that all that anger came from a broken place deep down inside him. A place of sadness and loss and grief and rage. He had survived so many hardships before they had met, and she understood that those experiences were not his fault. What was his fault, however, was how he handled those feelings.

His choice to ignore his trauma and have it lash out at her was not going to be tolerated any further. If she were to stay with him, A LOT would have to change. She made her stipulations very clear; he was to no longer use any kind of derogatory or hurtful language towards her, he would have to start respecting her boundaries and limits and listening to her without pressuring her to do whatever it is that he wanted. He would also have to start seeing a therapist or they could see a couples’ counselor together. And finally, he wasn’t allowed to come with her to her friends’ wedding that was coming up in a few months. She knew he didn’t want to go anyways, and she wanted a chance to enjoy herself with her friends without worrying about him ruining the day for her, or for them.

He agreed to everything, as long as it meant that she would be staying.

Continue to Chapter Ten

Three years to the day after moving to this small town, and a year after he had graduated from college, despite her better judgement, she once again chose to follow him somewhere else so he could continue to pursue his dreams.

The fighting hadn’t stopped. But keep in mind, he was still the charming, sweet, funny, thoughtful, worldly guy she had first met – when he wanted to be. She held on to the happy experiences they shared together. Not only as a way to get through her life with him, but as a way to justify the relationship to herself, and to others. But even throughout the good times that were wedged in there between the bad, neither of them were truly happy in their relationship. They had just both become so codependent, neither one could fathom an alternate version of their lives.

He had found a job protecting endangered animals, 6 hours north from where they were living. He had been commuting back and forth for a few weeks and when the time came for them to pack up their lives and officially move up there, he knew how miserable she was so he asked her point blank, “Are you sure you want to do this? We could go our separate ways right now…” She was shocked to hear it, and yet not. He always said that she’d be the one to leave him, like all his girlfriends before her. Early in their relationship she would dispute that and reassure him, “I’ll never leave you.” But in that moment she wanted so badly to just end it. Except – at that point they had been together for five years and had been seriously talking about starting a family. She had just turned 30 and she could feel her window to have children getting smaller and smaller. For as long as she could remember, being a mother was her ultimate goal in life. She always felt that she was born to have children. How could she end it now when she was so close to getting everything she thought she ever wanted? Once again, she chose to stay and followed him even further away from the previous life she had known and loved. Further away from herself.

When they relocated to Northern Canada, she was on Unemployment due to the fact that she had quit her job in order to ‘follow a spouse’. Then, life threw them both another curve ball when her boyfriend was temporarily laid off from this job that they had just moved up there for, less than a month prior. That summer, forest fires were raging throughout the geographical area that was his work site. So now, they were both unemployed, spending every second of every day together. As worried as they both were about finances, and as much as she dreaded having no alone time or separation from her ever loving common law spouse, they did end up having some fun during that time. They camped, they hiked, and they explored their new city.

They both looked forward to the upcoming beer fest being held downtown on the main pub strip. Roads were closed to accommodate this event. All sorts of craft breweries were there. It was a beautiful, hot summer day and the two of them happily got shit faced together. They drank all day and into the evening. It was then that they began chatting with another couple who had driven two hours to attend this festival.

The guy was tall and skinny. Charming and funny with shaggy hockey hair under a flat brimmed skateboarder hat. The girl, was short and blonde, big boobs and a hops pendent on her necklace. So while she was intrinsically involved in a drunken, flirtatious conversation with the tall stranger, her boyfriend was equally as chatty with this guy’s voluptuous lady friend. She realized that there was a huge possibility that that evening could end up with a “swingers” hook up. She had always said to her pushy, guilt tripping, hyper-sexual boyfriend that if a threesome were to ever present itself organically, she wouldn’t necessarily turn it down. She had never been sure if she was being honest when she would tell him that, though. She knew she had no interest in one when she was sober, and that even when drunk, it was never something she would actively pursue. She did know, however, that the constant pressure and manipulation he laid on her in his efforts to achieve that goal were something that she definitely was not comfortable with.

But the vibes were there that night, with that couple. They mentioned they were staying at a nearby hotel and, sure enough, she and her boyfriend ended up going back with them. She kept telling herself how happy she was for her boyfriend, and for her. For their relationship. She was totally comfortable with everything that had happened, and was going to happen. He seemed to be enjoying the other girl’s company, and she herself was really just loving having to look up to talk to a guy for once. They were both so bored and unhappy in their relationship that she was truly looking forward to being with someone else. They got to their room and, yadda yadda yadda. It was a drunken adventure that she enjoyed more than she thought she would. So much so, however, that when the night was winding down, but she and the other guy weren’t quite finished, all of a sudden her boyfriend went into a blind rage.

He started yelling at her incoherently, grabbing his shit and storming out. She scrambled to get herself together and chased after him. Barely a goodbye to either of the kind strangers they had gotten to know that evening. She made it outside in time to join him in the cab that must have been waiting by the hotel because there is no way a taxi service has ever been that fast. It was deadly quiet. They got home in the wee hours of the morning, and he just unleashed his verbal venom and bile upon her. He told her she was a slut, among other hurtful and demeaning insults. She cried herself to sleep in the bedroom and he stayed on the couch. The next day, and for weeks and months to come, he would express the overwhelming jealousy and rage he felt when he saw her enjoying herself sexually with someone else, when in their day to day life she barely had a libido. And that even though throughout that experience, she had literally cheered him on as she watched him with that other girl, him seeing her doing the exact same thing angered him beyond explanation. This drunken tryst that was intended to bring them closer, just made them both resent each other more.

Eventually, the forest fires subsided and her boyfriend went back to work. She was happy to have some time and space away from him. The blue 2004 Pontiac Sunfire she had purchased before she met him was still alive and kickin’ when they moved. It had survived two trips back and forth moving their lives up there to an even smaller two-bedroom apartment than they had lived in before, on the top floor of a house. One morning, a week or so after moving in, her car died in the driveway when she was on her way to get groceries. (Rest in Peace, Sunny. You were a faithful automotive companion.) No vehicle, plus a poor public transit system, left very little employment opportunities for her. So, while her boyfriend was gone for 10, 12, 14 hours a day, sometimes staying at the cabins on site if need be, she was just… there. Alone. Herself and four walls, with no one to talk to and nothing to do.

She sank into a depression. He reassured her that all his hard work was for both of them. For the family they wanted to start. For all the things they wanted to do, and places they wanted to go, and dreams they had for the future. It was all for her, he’d say. Still, she was falling further and further into her own dark thoughts. Her insecurities and self doubt were at an all time high. Their fighting got worse. Already having little patience, he was even more easily agitated after working those long hours. He had no empathy for her and the situation she had put herself in for him. He expected her to be grateful for what he was doing and to basically kiss his ass when he returned from a long day. She was expected to have dinner ready when he got home, listen to all his bitching and moaning about work and society and the world, and then spread her legs or open her mouth so he could get off and fall asleep.

Very often he would insist she then spend what seemed like forever, laying there tickling and stroking his neck and back, trying to soothe his anxiety and whatever he was going through that (to him) justified his behaviour towards her. Meanwhile she would be thinking about how much she hated that responsibility. This tender, caring action she did for him that she used to embrace and do willingly because she cared about his well being and wanted to relieve his every woe, became something she resented. She had already faked enthusiasm while letting him have sex with her. She always felt so exhausted continuously having to attend to his neuroses, as well. They co-existed in a limbo, of sorts. Tensions grew and grew. Until one day, he came home with a surprise for her.

Over the years, he had recounted to her many times how his ex girlfriend had taken their cats when she left him. A story that had at first made her sympathetic towards him, had now made her realize that she never, EVER, wanted to share a pet with him. He had made it very clear that if they ever did get a pet, and if the day ever came that they broke up, he would keep the pet. No arguments. She had no say in the matter. The pet would be his if they ever parted ways. It was that thought that flashed through her mind, on that crisp October afternoon, the moment she looked through the drivers side window of his truck, and saw the small, black and white, beautiful little border collie puppy sitting on his lap. Of course she would instantly fall in love with it! Of course she wouldn’t make him take her back! Of course she would care for her and love her and train her and be the best owner possible for this wonderful, scrappy, funny little canine. He knew that. Though he has never, and will never admit it, bringing that puppy home was one of the biggest manipulation tactics he had ever used on her. It was the cruelest thing he had ever done throughout the entirety of their relationship. She was now more stuck there than ever.

Continue to Chapter Nine

By the end of their first year together, he had convinced her to move out of her clean, beautiful apartment and into the dirty, expensive, main floor unit that he had recently moved into with a buddy. The apartment she had been living in, that she moved in to by herself like the Independent Woman she thought she was, had 10ft ceilings, a balcony that faced the courtyard of her apartment complex, as well as a beautiful museum. It had a glittery, white concrete floor in the bathroom, a great kitchen, hardwood floors, and was the cheapest rent she could have ever imagined. It was a unicorn apartment – literally too good to be true. It was a brand new unit in a brand new apartment building. No one had ever lived in that space before. It was all hers. And yet, the draw of living with her boyfriend, and the pressure he was putting on her to move because rent was cheaper at his place with three people instead of two, forced her to make a choice that would expedite her relationship from bad to worse.

She was so blinded by the love and affection he gave her when he was in a good mood or wanted something out of her, that it didn’t even seem like a question not to move in with him. All his bad behaviour, his cruel words, his obsession with porn and sex and the idea of other women, didn’t seem enough to hold her back. She was smack dab in the epicenter of the mental and emotional manipulation and abuse that encapsulated her relationship as a whole. They were spending every day together anyways, and her apartment would have been too small for him to move in to officially. It just made sense for her to move in with him and his friend, didn’t it? His friend, since he had lived there first, kept the big bedroom. She and her boyfriend would have to share the significantly smaller, cramped, second bedroom. But it was okay, she reasoned with herself. She was in love… or whatever she thought romantic love was at that point.

Her friends had made it very clear that they didn’t really like him and that she deserved better. She made excuses for him and tried to force them to be compassionate towards him. She would end up using the same lines he had used to manipulate her, on her friends, to try to convince them that he was a good guy. That she wasn’t wasting her youth on someone who constantly put her down and made her feel bad about herself, or who could fly off the handle at any moment over something seemingly innocuous. Someone who would text her nudes or graphic porno shots from Tumblr, under the pretense of “Oh I like the lingerie she’s wearing,” or “see? She’s fat too and she’s into (whatever sex position the woman was in)”. And despite all the times she told him to stop doing that, he would just continue because it was something he liked that he wanted her to be a part of. No regard for how uncomfortable it made her, or how bad it made her feel about herself being constantly bombarded with images of women who he found sexy and attractive, doing sexual things that she would never have even considered. How could she not compare herself to these women? How could she feel confident about herself when she knew she could never live up to his expectations? Her friends didn’t know all the details at the time, and looking back now, it seems unfathomable that she would have spent so many years protecting him and making excuses for him, thinking this is what relationships were all about.

Wanting to be supportive of their friend, they all put their reservations aside and tried to get to know him more. Once she was all moved in, they had a few of her friends and their boyfriends come over for dinner. Everyone seemed to be enjoying themselves. They had an elaborate meal, they played games, they drank. She had hoped against all hope that this would be the occasion that would change all of their opinions of him, and his of them. Everything went well and she really felt that things were turning a corner, until everyone left. He told her that that was the most tedious night ever and that he never wanted to have friends over for dinner ever again. Her friends were equally unimpressed. They all had fun with her but felt that he didn’t try enough to really chat them up or get to know anyone. It was all for nothing. Still, that didn’t deter her. If anything, it just pushed her closer to him. Months later, her best friend told her that she was unable to remain close with her for her own mental health. She said that she couldn’t watch her friend give so much of herself away and get nothing in return, and she could no longer deal with all the excuses and lies she was being fed about their relationship. Even then, she didn’t waver. She was willing to give up the closest friendship she had ever had in order to make this relationship work. That was a defining moment in her life, and a choice she regrets to this very day.

Their first year living together was the definition of toxic. They fought all the time, mainly about how much time she wanted to spend with her friends and family. Once they fought so much about her wanting to see her friends on Canada Day, that he threw an empty flask at her head and she stormed out, but had to stay at a coworkers house that night because she didn’t want her close friends or family to see the huge goose egg on her forehead. However, their main source of argument was about all the pressure he put on her sexually. He would constantly be forcing her to wear certain outfits that made her feel overly exposed and insecure. He would pressure her to do things sexually that she wasn’t comfortable with, asking her to talk dirty but to say things that were really gross and that were definitely not a turn on for her.

He constantly pressured her for things she knew she never wanted to try, but which then became things she would have to negotiate about and plead with him not to do. She even promised to do a certain back door act once a month (though she never did follow through), if he would just stop hounding her for it literally every single day. He would make her feel guilty for not wanting to do it, saying that she was being selfish and inconsiderate of his wants and needs. He would remind her that from the beginning, he told her he was a very sexual person and that she was a disappointment for not wanting to do the things he wanted to do to/with her. It didn’t matter that it hurt her, that she didn’t like it in any way, and that she got nothing out of it except pain and shame. He would just remind her how sexual she was with him in the beginning of their relationship, and that it wasn’t fair to him to be committed to her now, but not be getting the sex he signed up for.

He even went as far as creating a profile for them on a fetish website, advertising that they were looking for a woman to join them in the bedroom. Without her knowledge or permission, he also posted photos of her in lingerie, or photos he had taken of her during sex (all without her face in it) to this website. When she discovered this, she was understandably outraged, but again with the manipulation, he convinced her it was okay A) that he had done it without her permission because it was a “surprise for her”, and B) he pointed out all the comments from strangers saying how sexy she was and how much they wanted to fuck her and do dirty things to her, as if those were compliments and she should be happy strange men found her fat body so attractive. Her thoughts then were, “I don’t care what they’re saying! You did this without my permission! You violated my trust and my autonomy for your own sexual deficiencies! How dare you!!” And she did make her thoughts known, but in the end, the only resolution they came to was allowing her to have the password to this account, and to have final approval on whatever photos were posted of her. Oh, and she was also allowed to read the messages between him and other women on the site. Did she not mention that? Oh yeah, he was chatting with other women about sex and their relationship, and sexual things they wanted to do together. But oh no, this was totally an okay thing to do.. (that was sarcasm, fyi).

It was a constant domestic war zone. But, a little over a year after moving in together, after his friend had found a new place and they were living alone just the two of them, the opportunity arose for him to go back to college to pursue a career he had always envisioned. The problem was that it was in a small town about two hours northwest of the city. This would mean she would have to leave her friends, leave her family, quit her job, and leave the life she had always known in order to move to a small town with limited job opportunities for her, where she knew no one, all so he could pursue his own dreams.

Clearly, the time they had spent living together had not been all rainbows and sunshine. They fought constantly. Loud screaming matches were a weekly occurrence (sometimes daily). She already felt the unhappiness of her relationship weighing on her and yet, it was all she could to do to just keep fighting for it. To keep trying to make it work, despite all the red flags and signs telling her to leave. Though she did weigh the pros and cons, her love and her relationship outweighed everything, and she decided to follow him out of the city. This would be their chance to get it right. They moved into a small two-bedroom apartment, close to the college. She was able to find employment in another small town directly beside the one she had moved to. It was about a 20-minute drive and she was being paid significantly less than her previous job. But, as long as he was happy, she was “happy”.

Things were going well for a while. Two hours isn’t that long when you really think about it. Often enough, she was able to drive back and forth to visit friends and family. He rarely came with her, of course. But it was nice to get away and to see the other people in her life that she loved so dearly. Until things started to take a turn again. He started getting angry and upset that she would be visiting them so much. “The car is old, it’s falling apart, you can’t take it back and forth so much,” he would say. Or, “you can’t afford the gas! You can’t afford to keep going out and partying like you’re some drunk single girl!” When in reality, it was her car that she purchased on her own before she even met him. She was allowed to take the car wherever she wanted, whenever she wanted to. Also, though he was right in the fact that the gas was expensive and she couldn’t really afford it, her parents were more than happy to cover it if it meant they would get to see her. And yet, even though his reasons for her not going away were moot, he guilted her and pressured her and yelled at her and manipulated her enough that her visits became less and less frequent.

They started fighting more. She started standing her ground and standing up for herself more. This only made him angrier. One Halloween, when they were both supposed to attend a Halloween party at her friends’ house back in the city, he purposely started a fight and punched and smashed a picture frame of her and her friends. When she rushed over to stop him, he grabbed her forcefully by the wrists, held them together in front of her, and spit directly in her face. That was one of the first times she really, really considered leaving him. She packed her bag and drove home to her parents’ house as fast as she could, crying as she sped away. She was in no condition to go to the party but another friend of hers, who is a nurse and was unable to attend the party to begin with, came over after her shift. She told her friend everything that had happened. “You need to leave him,” her friend told her plainly. She nodded her head and wiped her tears. She knew she was right. She had no arguments to support her staying with him. And still she could only reply, “I know. You’re right. I just don’t know if I’m ready…” Her friend paused and chose her words as carefully as she could. She said, “I love you. I will always be here for you. But I do not respect this decision. I cannot respect you voluntarily staying with someone who treats you so poorly. I will always be your friend, but I can’t listen to you tell me these things anymore if you’re not going to do anything to change your situation.”

The next day she drove back to that small town. Back to her verbally, mentally, and emotionally abusive boyfriend. Her relationship with her friend was not the same again for a very, very long time. However, looking back, she recognized that that experience is just one example of what true friendship is. Someone who will tell you, point blank, how you’re fucking up and why. Someone who will explain to you why they disagree with you or your choices, and who will set boundaries for themselves not to endanger their own mental health, but who simultaneously remains present in your life despite how they feel about whatever is going on. In hindsight, she was so grateful for this friend of hers. And for all her friends, really. But more on that later…

Continue to Chapter Eight

His job took him out of town a few times a month, and he had to go to the States over Valentine’s Day weekend. She was disappointed but what could she expect of a two-week relationship? He asked her to pick him up at the airport when he returned. It was late and she didn’t really want to, but she did want to see him, so she agreed. When he got in the car, he whipped out a big heart shaped box filled with her favourite chocolates. “I wanted to get you something better, but this is all I could find on short notice during my trip,” he said as he handed it to her. She smiled from ear to ear and they kissed. Her heart was so full. The first few months of their relationship continued the same way. He was so attentive and kind and thoughtful and loving. She felt like she was living in a romantic comedy. He met her friends and they seemed to like him, despite him getting a bit too drunk on St. Patrick’s Day. He even came for Sunday dinners at her parents house every week. They loved him and they made it known to her. She felt like she had finally found her person.

Then, three months to the day of their first date, they had their first fight. Even now, years later, she can’t remember exactly what it was about, why they had fought so ferociously that night. She thinks it had something to do with her wanting to do something with her friends that he didn’t approve of. All she really remembered, though, was him screaming at her, and herself screaming back at him with every ounce of anger she had in her. She slammed the door behind her and ran down to get in her car and drive back to her apartment. She sat in the driver’s seat screaming and crying and hitting the steering wheel. She had never in her whole, entire life felt anger like she had felt that night. No one she had ever met had hurt her or made her as furious as he had done that night. Little did she know, that would certainly not be the last time she felt that way because of him. By the time she arrived back at her place, she had two texts and a voicemail from him. All apologies. She called him back and they resolved their fight. They were back to normal the next day. If only she had had the good sense to have ended it then.

After that, they began spending almost every second of every day together. She was canceling plans with her friends, coming up with excuses why she couldn’t see them – flat out lying, basically. Eventually June rolled around. For the previous six years, she and 2 of her friends who all had birthdays around the same time would always celebrate their birthdays together. She was turning 26 and she was excited to celebrate with them again. Her boyfriend, however, could not have made it more difficult. Despite knowing her plans, he had organized an elaborate getaway for her birthday and was angry that she wouldn’t reschedule her party, or even just not go and let her friends celebrate without her. She made it clear how important this was to her and that she was going with or without him. So, he came with her.

She and her friends had planned to celebrate at a Tex-Mex restaurant that turned into a bar upstairs at night. Things had gone fairly smoothly throughout the evening. Everyone was drinking and having a good time. A familiar song came on and all the girls rushed out to the dance floor. Halfway through the song, he came up to join her but one of her friends stopped him and said, “wait, no! Girls only for this song!” She had sent her own boyfriend away as well, but this would not stand.

He immediately felt slighted. How DARE anyone exclude him or tell him he couldn’t do something. He began to drink heavily and by the time the song was done, he was belligerently drunk. She went to find him and he just let her have it. He started yelling at her right there at the bar, in front of everyone. Then he stormed out. The smart thing would have been for her to just let him leave. Love makes people stupid, though, so she followed him. They fought on the sidewalk in front of the bar. She begged him to calm down. She couldn’t understand why he was so angry. “Please come back. I love you. Don’t do this,” she pleaded. She grabbed his arm and he ripped it out of her hand, backhanding her across the face. Later, when he sobered up, he maintained that he didn’t mean to do it. The jury is still out on that one. And yet, even after he hit her and stormed off, instead of going inside to find her friends, she followed his drunk ass around the nearby neighbourhood, which was located close to a shopping mall.

Somehow, he was able to climb up to the second level of the mall’s parking garage and threatened to end his life. She begged him to come down. So he did, by jumping off. He didn’t break anything, but he was in a lot of pain and he really, really hurt his back. Instead of calling an ambulance, she called a cab and took him home. She put him in her bed and cried herself to sleep on the couch. The next morning she messaged his sister and told her what had happened. They had been together for 5 months at this point and she just wanted some advice as to whether or not she should stay with him. His sister, to her credit, told her that her brother was not an angel. She told her that he grew up in a very traumatic environment and had many, many issues that he needed to address. She said it was up to her whether or not she wanted to stay or go, but that she would always be there for her if she needed to talk. And so began an unwavering friendship that has lasted throughout their whole relationship, and even afterwards. If there’s one good thing that came out of this, it was meeting his sister and the two of them becoming “sistas”, as they have so named themselves.

He woke up that afternoon and could barely move, and barely remembered anything. He apologized and begged her forgiveness. Though she was still angry and hurt and embarrassed, she forgave him again. Despite her better judgement, she let him put the blame on her, that if she had just let him dance with her, none of that would have happened. They went on the birthday trip that he had planned, part of which entailed finally meeting his friends. She ended up shamelessly flirting with his best friend, who shamelessly flirted back, and she felt zero guilt about doing it right in front of him. Though he was obviously not happy about that, he knew his friend was just teasing him, and he also knew that he had royally fucked up and that she was entitled to be angry and to lash out. He spent the next few weeks sucking up to her and eventually, he won her over again and it was as if nothing had happened.

Continue to Chapter Seven