I actually hate life right now. I don’t know what to do because everything is falling apart – from my love life to what I call life in general; emotionally, I’m tired.

I fell in love with this guy. He was handsome, a model, dark skinned, not too tall, and had a great personality. He was actually fun to be around.

First week of our relationship was amazing! He paid attention to me and every little thing I said went to his heart. He had jokes, made me laugh, he was naughty and that too made me like him more. He wasn’t shallow as one would think because he was a model with a huge chest and an 8 pack on his stomach. He was every girl’s dream and yet he chose me.

I am a nobody, my physique is just normal, but he said he loved me just the way I am.

A couple of months into the relationship he started changing. He was still amazing but he wanted to control me. This freaked me out. It started small, like he’d ask me to tell him everything about my whereabouts and at first I found that cute, I thought he cared.

I remember our first actual argument, that day the real him was unleashed.

He hit me.

The guy was violent, but I didn’t know this until the day he hit me. I feared for my life and ended things immediately.

As every abuser does, he apologised. He begged me to talk to his mom and promised not to do it ever again. He was sorry, you know. Very sincere. Because I loved him, I took the apology and we mended things. Typical.

Then he started to remind me of the bad things I had done to him. He made me cry, broke my confidence and I blamed myself. He was an animal. I wept that night, I cried and cried until I felt my mouth getting sore. I couldn’t speak and cried myself to sleep. Luckily he didn’t hit me this time around, but emotionally I was deeply scarred.

I saw the signs but love glued me to him. He knew that before I met him I had depression, yet he emotionally drained me as well.

Second week of the relationship, he started stalking me without me knowing, verifying everything I told him. I remember this one time he told me he had lost lots of money because of me – from the price of stalking me. I never asked him for a cent and that threw him off a bit. I was my own person, never needed anybody for anything, but that wasn’t right by him.

There is this phrase he liked using: “How can I fix you?”

He complained about everything, every day. I started not caring anymore because I didn’t do anything right in his eyes. He ended up cheating and blamed me for it. Every time we had arguments, he’d bring up my past. That broke me. I remember asking him why he simply didn’t break up with me. He said he loved me and with that he had me right where he wanted me.

I felt guilty, apologised every time, even when I hadn’t done anything wrong. For the sake of peace, I was at his mercy.

I remember there was this time I wanted to commit suicide – I had it all planned.

I was tired, so tired that life meant nothing anymore. If I was the monster he always said I was, then why was I living? But the little voice in me stopped me; it reminded me of who I was. I had goals to achieve and I was strong.

Months down the line I revived myself, built my confidence; something I never had to do before. And he saw the changes in me. My attitude towards him changed, I made him feel small every time we’d argue. He’d start unnecessary arguments but I feared him no more. I back-chatted and that made it worse, he said I didn’t respect him, but I didn’t care. In my heart I wanted out.

I’d sometimes think of killing him, but later change my mind. I no longer loved him, that’s for sure, but I couldn’t break up with him. In my head there was this thing I had, the urge for fame; and he had that, so I stuck around for that.

Tables turned, when we’d argue, I wouldn’t apologise. I think I abused him too but he deserved it, but that wasn’t for long. I was mature so I knew wrong from right and treated him right.

Oh boy, I made a mistake.

One time I was at his place and he wasn’t around, he had gone to work, he had a job at some store. That day he came into the house moody, I don’t know why. I’d ask him and he’d say it’s “work stuff”. The next day he started an argument based on nothing, he hit me again.

He hit my face and I fell and lost consciousness and woke up after a few minutes. I crawled to the door and he just looked at me. As soon as I was about to reach the door, he banged the door, dragged me back by my feet. He had been drinking something while I was unconscious – poison. He then forced me to drink it too, saying we’d die together.

I refused, closed my mouth but he kept forcing. Luckily the poison in him started kicking in and he let me loose because now he was in pain. That was my chance. He was on the brink of death and that was my way out.

I crawled again though I was dizzy. I knew the place like the back of my hand so I managed to get out. I sought help because blood was dripping from my face and by grace someone called an ambulance for me. I had lost a lot of blood and had blacked out.

Sadly he was also found, but it was too late. He was no more.


Tell us: Would you have stayed in this relationship for so long?

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