So, it all started in high school. I saw this guy, he seemed intriguing, sophisticated, mysterious. I tried hanging out with him a few times, but it wasn't until some serious turmoil entered my life that he and I developed a serious relationship.
At first, I wasn't sure if I really liked him that much after all, but as we spent more time together I grew to like him more each day.
He comforted me at times I felt weak, sad, lonely, bored. He was with me constantly, everywhere I went, through the good times and bad. Whenever I needed to relax, to just sit and think, to get through any difficulty, he was there.
Before we began dating I had heard rumors about him. That he was deceitful, manipulative, controlling, etc. But I ignored it all. He made me happy, and that was all that mattered.
As our relationship continued I began to see what they meant, and I heard even crazier rumors that he was a serial killer, and that he would eventually kill me. I ignored these rumors too.
But things began to get uncomfortable. He was always wanting me with him. Everytime I was in the middle of something he would call me and want me to spend some time with him. I always did, but many times I didn't really want to, even though our get togethers were pleasurable, I got sick of always having to be at his beck and call.
I realized everyone knew who he was, and they'd all heard the rumors too, so I felt uncomfortable being in public with him. People would judge me. They'd direct their kids away from me, kick us out of restaurants, keep us within a secluded area like cattle or something.
He was always demanding my money. Often he would demand my last cents, and I would go to great lengths to give it to him, searching under the couch cushions, in the car.
Some of my friends didn't want to be around me if he was with me. They said he smelled weird, and they were right. Even when he was gone his stench was on my clothes and wherever he had been.
Eventually, it seemed like he had to have a say in everything I did, and I started to rely on him to heavily. I began to feel like I couldn't do anything without him.
One day, before one of our little get togethers on the back porch, I walked into the kitchen to see him slipping something into my drink. He was poisoning me!
Even after discovering this, I couldn't imagine leaving him. It couldn't be poison, I felt ok. I didn't feel like I was dying. I didn't know what I would do without him, so I tried to ignore this new realization and continued being with him.
Occasionally I would start to think hard about the fact that he was controlling my life, that he was making me his slave, that he was still poisoning me, and then I would try to leave him, but he wasn't going to let me go without a fight. He would call me non-stop, whisper promises to me, remind me of all the good times we shared and all the times he was there for me. He would tell me I couldn't survive without him, that I wouldn't know how to cope, that I'd be miserable forever. So I would listen and believe him and come back.
For awhile I'd be happy again, and glad to have him back in my life, but the novelty would wear off fast, and I'd remember all he'd done to me and hate him for it.
Finally, I decided to come up with a way to escape him. I made plans for months on what I would do when he started calling me after I left. How I would fight the lies and promises. How I would cope when I felt like I needed him again.
Then the day came, I left, he called over and over, I didn't answer the phone. He left me messages telling me he missed me and that I needed him, I ignored them. When things got tough I found other ways to deal with them rather than running back to him. His poison began to wear off and I began to feel better. His stench was gone. I wasn't broke all the time. I didn't have to base every activity in my life around being with him or picking him up. I was free, and the longer I denied him and ignored him, the less he bothered me, until eventually he stopped calling altogether. Well, almost, occasionally he will call me at some random time, or I'll remember him when I do things that he and I used to enjoy together, but then I remember all the ways that he hurt me, and I no longer feel bad. I am free.
