I was one of those late bloomers.
One of those girls who didn’t turn any heads in high school.
Who never had a boyfriend.
Who was one of the guys.
And then in college I kind of came into my own.
It was the first time in my life that I caught the attention of a guy because he thought I was attractive.
And I liked that feeling.
The chase was an adrenaline rush.
Snagging the guy was a high.
Eventually, though, it became an addiction.
My self worth became dependent upon my ability to land the guy.
Then, the quality of the guys I was finding myself with deteriorated.
Until, eventually, I was almost completely letting the guy I was with determine my value, and ultimately,
I ended up with the piece of shit who beat the crap out of me.
Now I don’t know how most abusers start out.
My abuser was attractive.
He was a fast talker.
He could lay it on pretty thick.
But he was also condescending.
Able to give a compliment and an insult in the same sentence.
I took it as a challenge.
The challenge was laid out on the table.
I knew something about this guy was off from the start.
But I didn’t listen to my gut.
before I knew it,
I let myself get sucked in.
The first few months weren’t bad.
Looking back now, I can see he was setting the stage.
He did things like draw bubble baths.
He made mix cd’s for me full of romantic songs.
He cooked me dinner.
He knew just what to do.
Then one night, we went out to a bar.
I saw a friend from high school who I hadn’t seen in about 5 years.
A male friend.
We had never been romantic, and I had no interest in him that way.
We were just good friends.
We talked for a while, reminisced, had a few laughs, and then I asked him for his number so we could hang out again sometime.
And the POS went fucking ballistic.
Not so much on me, but on my friend.
I tried to calm him down.
I tried to explain that I had asked for the number.
But he wasn’t having it.
He was enraged and about to start throwing punches.
My friend, a former football player who could have totally kicked the POS’s ass, just left.
On his way out, he said to me, “You picked are real winner.”
That was the last I saw of my friend.
But not the last I saw of the POS’s true colors.
In fact, that was just the beginning.
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