A Year Ago Today Was The Day I Started To Want To Feel Better.

A year ago today was the day I started to want to feel better.

Clearly I am a creature of habit: I'm back in the same restaurant having lunch.

If I ran into someone we both knew, he interrogated me about the interaction looking for any whisper of something he didn't like. I'm trying to cover my bases.

The woman here was his friend's wife. I didn't like him - had a predator's vibe, plus openly self-serving. I liked her, but he told me she was just as conniving (truth?).

He would have been particularly interested in this conversation for it's likelihood to get back to his other friends. I remember the dread when I realized she was at the next table, and tried to be as unmemorable as possible.

I also insulted the friend because I knew that he didn't like her.

I am embarrassed to admit that I let him put one of those parental control apps on my last phone. It was after it all came out, and I did it as a sign of good faith. I had changed. I wasn't a cheater. I was actively building him up and saying good things about him.

He saw every text and every email. He knew exactly where I was at all times. I found some ways around it - he couldn't see whatsapp for example - but would see my useage of that app and then read all of my messages the next time we were together.

I had to navigate conversations with friends and my parents very carefully during that time. if he saw something that even remotely resembled a negative word or feeling about him from someone I was in for it.

I was constantly analysing all of my conversations, anticipating any possible interpretation. I would stategically delete parts of whatsapp convos with friends I didn't want him to see, and then agonize if the parts I had left made sense as part of a conversation.

He flipped shit a handful of times over spam I received despite that it clearly came from a shady source (sjxudnssjxu@fkzkakdn.bn.sk.ho.... Looks legit...)

When I got the phone I currently have in January of 2017 he told me he didn't want the app anymore. I took it as a sign that he was giving up on me and was devastated. But I always had the suspicion that he added it on somehow without me knowing it. At the time, I found that satisfying.

After waking up that fear terrorized me. He's calmed down trying to get ahold of me, so I have relaxed some in my paranoia. But occasionally i still rethink my word choice just in case *someone* is reading.

Just to crush my hopes and dreams, he told me that if I got a dog, it wouldn't snuggle with me.

The first time I ever heard the n word used in person, it was at his family’s dinner table.

I was dumbfounded.

When he kicked me out initially and I dragged my shamed, mortified, and heartbroken ass to my parents place, I spent days in bed with silent tears rolling down my face.

I don't remember going to work, but that doesn't mean it didn't happen. It's a blur.

But something broke up the monotony of misery. My dad knocked on the door and handed me a care package that had been dropped off. It had fuzzy socks, chocolate, and two movies.

I was basically inconsolable at this point and still very much under his spell. But this brought me a bit out of my fog. It was a thoughtful gesture that really meant the world to me.

I repeat, friendship is a vastly underrated relationship.

Friendship is a vastly underrated relationship.