Just some pictures of me growing up.
Once upon a time I dated a real loser. Well, I dated several losers, but this was beyond that. This particular individual was rather abusive. Mostly mentally, although it did get physical a few times. This was a very low point in my life. There were many changes going on in my family which made me feel insecure already. I was vulnerable. This person and I started to date. It didn't take me long to realize that this was not a great situation. When we had been going out just a couple of weeks I wanted to end it, but I was worried about what others would say. So we continued the relationship.
As time went on there were times when I felt like I needed out, but he threatened to do horrible things to himself if I left. I was scared he would hurt himself or worse. I didn't want that on my head. So I stayed.
Weeks went by and I found that I no longer wanted to end the relationship. I was scared to. Not because of what would happen to him, but because of what might happen to me. I "knew" that I was the scum of the Earth by this point. This person was doing me a favor by staying by my side. He loved me out of the goodness of his heart when anyone else would have taken one look at me and bolted the other way. I just knew this was the case.
The person I was dating had a miserable home life. He was not happy and was rather mentally abused himself, or so he thought. Either way, he was not happy. He hated himself.
Eventually my parents intervened. They had watched for weeks while their happy, fun loving daughter turned melancholy. They could see that I was miserable. They helped me to put an end to it. Oh but there was weeping and wailing and gnashing of teeth. I was so angry at my parents. How could they do this to me? Didn't they know that I would never, ever be able to find someone who would love me again? He was doing me a favor, and now I would be alone the rest of my miserable, pitiful, disgusting existence.
To be continued...