Definitions belong to the definers, not the defined.
~ Toni Morrison, Beloved
Six days before I finally ended the relationship with the man that almost broke me, I unlocked the back door and let him sneak in to my bedroom after our daughter’s bedtime.
He had returned our daughter to the home he no longer lived in just a couple of hours before and then walked the three blocks to where he was living.
We were still trying to make it work even though we’d lived apart for four months by then but by the time I turned that deadbolt, I knew deep in my bones that it could never work. My marrow knew.
My brain wasn’t registering it fully yet, though, and the desperation for it not to be true allowed me to pretend that maybe one more clandestine night would change things.
Make no mistake: the driving force was relief, not hope.
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Life After Emotional Abuse 