Ours needed to end. It should have ended the first time he hit me. The first time he pulled a knife on me. The first time he called me a horrible name. The first time he forced himself on me. I didn't love him. I had no illusions that he would change. I knew he wasn't just going to wake up one day and realize that he was wrong for treating me so badly. Every time I wanted to break up with him or tell someone what he was doing to me, I remembered what he said to me.
