"Loving you was like going to war; I never came back the same."
I'd always considered myself a smart girl, a girl who had lines, who had boundaries, and who would never tolerate a man behaving badly.
But I was also a nice girl, a girl who loved unconditionally, who trusted people implicitly and lived under the assumption that everyone was like me: a good person at heart, though imperfect, someone who didn’t possess a malicious bone in my body.
I was incapable of bringing harm or suffering to someone on purpose, so I naively believed everyone else was equally nice.
Especially the one who I’d fallen head over heels in love with, and who had initially returned my love in abundance, vowing his loyalty and devotion until death do us part. In the beginning, I was the object of his flagrant affection. I was adored. I was placed on a pedestal so high that I had to look down to see the clouds. And I loved him back with equal measure, often thinking: Life was good.
Until it wasn’t.