All I could think about was how, before all this, he’d told me I was the best thing that had ever happened to him, that he was terrified of losing me, that he wanted to be better, and could I please be patient with him? And I had been a good girlfriend, I really had. I could not square in my mind that he both loved me deeply and that he couldn’t look at me. I was so full of my own grasping need that I couldn’t address or maybe even see his, and vice versa.
