It was toxic. There was no doubting that now. This, my relationship with him and what he was doing to himself and me, it was dangerous and scary and so, so unhealthy in every sense of the word. An outsider might look at the situation and think me insane for still being inside that apartment, sitting at that table. An onlooker might say they'd never put themselves in this situation to begin with. But it was my reality now, and no, it wasn't good, but somehow, in the moment, it didn't seem as bad as one might think it should.
