It was time.
I’d been mentally preparing for this moment for months.
The police were here.
He was in the wrong.
I knew this would happen.
So why did I drop the necessity bag?
Why did I shut out the help that was ready for me?
Why did I come back?
It’s gotten so bad, he doesn’t even pretend to be sorry anymore.
No guilt. No hesitation.
Just projection and rage.
And still—
I fought to get him to communicate.
Why?
Why am I still holding on?
What am I even holding onto?
What have I done?
Now, I’m more alone than ever.
More isolated.
More disappointed in myself.
I write in my journal about how strong I am.
How this is a terrible situation.
How I will get out.
But as Maury would say—
“The lie detector determined… that was a lie.”
Because if I were strong—
Wouldn’t I have left by now?
I tell myself I’m not weak.
I tell myself I’m not submissive.
But with him?
That’s exactly who I’ve become.
This. Cycle. Doesn’t. End.
I feel sick from the spinning, from the same loop, over and over.
Fight.
Bigger fight.
Explosion.
Silence.
Reach out.
No accountability.
Too much accountability.
Unresolved issues.
It gets worse.
Cycle restarts.
Why can’t I get off this ride?
Even without the mind games and gaslighting,
The betrayal alone should be enough.
The lies should be enough.
But no.
Not for me.
I try to work through it.
Why?
He doesn’t.
And he’s the one who did it.
It’s like I’m the one trying to make up for something I didn’t even do.
I’m the one who reaches out after the explosion.
I’m the one self-reflecting and trying to grow.
I’m the one who feels all the pain.
Why the fuck am I still here?
It’s not even good when it’s “good” anymore.
Just a constant state of suspense.
Waiting.
Holding my breath.
Knowing the next blow-up is coming.
There’s no effort on his part to fix things.
No apologies.
No real change.
And yet, I keep trying.
What have I done?
I was out.
My support system was ready.
They had my back.
They were prepared to weather the storm with me.
And now?
I’m alone.
With him.
They stepped back.
And I don’t blame them.
What else were they supposed to do?
I came back.
Hell, I came back before I even left.
Now, I feel stuck.
Like the boy who cried wolf.
Except the difference?
There’s always a wolf when I call.
But my delusional reality makes me think I can tame him.
That he’s just a lost, lone wolf, looking for his pack.
That my pack is missing him.
I need to learn something.
He is a wild animal.
I am not in a wolf pack.
And he’s alone for a reason.
Beginning Before The Start 
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