I thought I had found it. The thing that everyone wishes for and craves. I thought I found my person. My one. But I didn't know any better. I didn't know that when he got angry with me it wasn't out of love. I didn't know that when he tried to control me that it wasn't out of care.
I didn't know. How could I? Since I was little I was told "he's mean because he likes you." "He only gets angry because he cares." the movies and the magazines told me it meant he cared.
He did care.
He cared about controlling me. He cared about owning me. He cared about making sure he was the only thing I loved and that I hated everything else. Including myself.
He had me believing he could do no wrong. That it was me, it was my fault. When he would get angry and neglect me it was because I deserved it. Because I made him do it.
But he was wrong. So wrong.
I believed him for so long. All the lies and the tricks. I fell for every manipulation out of infatuation and fear.
I was horrified to be alone. I thought I wouldn't be able to go on without him. But the second he left I realized how poisonous it all was. And I was free.
Single doesn't mean miserable. It means liberty.
