Why leave a life as a millionaire? Why leave a perfect boyfriend? Why leave family and a cute, derelict farmhouse and sex—God, why give up sex? Because if I hadn’t, that darkness spilling in through my farmhouse window would have taken me. I’d wanted it to take me. I was ready for it to take me. And somehow I managed to crawl my way here instead, gasping like a drowning man who’d just clawed his way to shore. I managed to save my own life—or I managed to let God save my life. Either way, that was the cost of surviving. My old life. Him.
