I have no problem holding a job. But he caught me off-guard and hit oh-so-low. He worked feverishly to tangle me up. At first, when I saw what he created it looked true. He was right.

But then I had no other choice. Whatever energy I had left had to go toward getting out. I could get off the couch for only the barest of essential tasks, and when I did, I’m not sure I was really there, you know? This had to change.

I had to start. So, I did. I started the divorce, I started to face a new reality. You know what? I’m fine! Or, I will be fine.

Here’s something strange, though. Here’s a contradiction… to heal, I was learning to enforce boundaries. But enforcing boundaries means holding rigid, protecting self. Self-centered. That thought- becoming that which I abhor, even a little bit- was repulsive, at first.

I didn’t understand that what I loathed was not the act of self-protection or self-centeredness. It was that characteristic in that other body. Adulterated.

He could make me react. Why are you yelling? He would ask, a picture of complete calm. He already knew. I’m sure I was loud, I know that’s how I get when I feel invisible. Maybe he would hear me, you know? But he ignored me on purpose. If pressed and he couldn’t run away, he’d look up at me and wait. I’d ask him to answer. “What are you even talking about?” he’d ask.