Before that fateful day in February, I thought I had life all figured out. I thought I would hate him for what he had done to me. But I didn’t. I loved him more than I ever thought possible. Maybe it was Stockholm Syndrome. Or maybe it was the realization that I needed him more than I thought I ever would. I knew I could never leave because I didn’t want to; being without him only terrified me more.
Yet another unexpected bump in the road made me desperate to get what I wanted—what I deserved. But what if what I wanted turned out to be my nightmare? What if what I deserved meant pining for something that wasn’t ever really there?
