Living in Fear
For the longest time I thought I was in love. The bruises and choke marks that lined my body were ones that would be forgiven and forgotten about because a simple “I love you” and “I’m sorry” would fix it all. I thought that the constant texts or calls were signs of love. I thought that them trying to find love elsewhere were signs of things I was lacking. I thought that I had to put the stress of having to provide for not only myself, but for another upon my shoulders. I thought that eventually instead of being the supporter we’d become a team. I thought it would get better because we had big plans for life, but it didn’t.