Then he'd come back, there'd be some nice kissing, and within minutes we'd be back to yelling and he'd be throwing things at me (coffee mugs, books, etc.). I hated how controlling and violent my partner was. And yet, after much inquiry and reflection, I realized I actually loved how controlling and violent he was. Loved, loved, loved it. I adored the feeling of being important that came from having this guy treat me like I was a supply of heroin that he had to manage in order to have it available at all times. In other words, my existence had meaning. Just as in the tale of Persephone and
...more