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So, I was miserable and pretending to be ecstatic. AB just plain frightened me at times. I had never ever seen myself being the victim in an abusive relationship, yet that is where I found myself. I withdrew from my friends, all but stopped going to class, and drank a LOT. A lot, a lot, a lot.

Second semester just got worse. We pretty much moved in together in a crappy one-bedroom apartment. As I force myself to type that, I feel like a weight is on my chest. It is ridiculous...I knew at the time that I wanted no part of that, but yet I allowed myself to be manipulated into doing it. Why? Spring semester, I went to class even less than the first, and dropped out of all but like 2 of my classes. And I failed one of those. It was awful. I don't really consider myself as ever having been truly suicidal, but I do recall fantasizing more than once about what it would be like to fall out of my seventh story dorm room. I remember packing up and leaving to go home for the summer. I cried as he held me. I was afraid that nothing would be the same the next year; he assured me that it would. I was probably unconsiously more afraid of owning up to my parents for the...well, for the lack of grades from that semester.

Somehow, I convinced my parents to let me go back to school in the fall. I am surprised they agreed to that with as little fanfare as they did. I had reconnected with some of my girl friends, and was looking forward to going back to school. At one point, toward the end of the summer, I had given AB back his ring, not to break the engagement, but because he couldn't afford it. I was making him return it. It was around that point that he had called me at work and we got in some meaningless fight on the phone. It may have had something to do with the ring. At any rate, he ended the phone call by calling me a "fucking bitch" and hanging up on me. I snapped. He called back; I didn't pick up. When I got home from work I went on a walk, wanting to avoid the enevitable phone call that would come there. Walking around my neighborhood, I saw what I dreaded most: his pick-up turning the corner and pulling into my parents' driveway. I panicked. I am so usually the one to avoid drama, so I was in a very uncomfortable position. I made a split decision to go to a very close neighbor's house rather than going home. From there I called my mom and told her that I was done with AB and that I didn't want to see him. She convinced me to come home to relay the news to him myself.

I don't remember exactly what I said, but with the knowledge that my Daddy was inside the house, I laid out the law on the sidewalk. I was over it, beyond it, through with it. Done. And I knew that I would not be returning to it this time, period. (like most melodramatic couples, we had had a couple of trial 'break ups' that never lasted long)

He sent flowers to work (I gave them to my mom), he came to work to give me a fraternity bid in jest (I didn't accept), he had HIS MOM call to try to talk to me (please)...on and on. I went back to school, and tried the friend route. We even had a near miss or two...hooking up, but after one of those nights, he went psycho. He yelled at me and practically chased me around his fraternity house. It was all I could do to get out of there. He called incessantly. I destroyed every single piece of photographic evidence of the relationship.

Fortunately, the freaky episodes got fewer and fewer. He tried a few times to reconnect, but I was determined in my resolve. I am lucky that he was never physically violent with me, but I know in my heart that it would have gone there had we stayed together. I also know how trapped it feels to be in an abusive relationship. It is like all of the air is squeezed from your body. As sick as it is, you somehow feel committed to the farce of it all, even though you know it is not healthy or right.

I didn't know where I stood when that relationship was over. My childhood ideal of only being in love once was crushed. I felt like I had been used and put back on the shelf. But I was free. And I knew that whatever else, I would absolutely not put myself in that position again. Ever.