I was just an object from which he gets rid of problems, nervousness, sadness and especially hurt; I am his sexual object, the one who always sees him angry, and who is always the target of his anger in bed. He just comes to me to fuck, whine and imagine him in my place. I always hear him call that boy, it's never my name. After all, I only did it because it was the only way to get close to him. But who would want someone like me? I am completely captive to his love, even if it is not for me, I surrender to him; for the simple reason of being the way in which he really knows that I exist.