Love in the Time of Serial Killers

by Alicia Thompson

Secrecy was a practical necessity if you had something to hide; politeness was social chloroform.

Lately it felt like my entire life was one big AITA thread and the answer was always yes, it’s me, I’m the asshole.

One of my fears with having a boyfriend—if that’s what Sam was—was losing myself, focusing so much on the relationship that I let go of important parts of me.

This is so relatable to me

“I’m not afraid of that word anymore,” I said. “I’m still afraid of a lot of things, most of them very specific scenarios involving being taken to a second location. But I’m not afraid of this, of loving you or being loved by you.”