We spoke every day, for hours. We made plans to meet four weeks later: March of 1996. We spent that month speaking of philosophy and music. By then, I could feel and recognize the fear. I was terrified of getting close to anyone. I didn"t know what it was, but I knew what I was becoming. I felt it only fair to warn him.
“If you hurt me, I will hurt you. If you hurt me, I will run and I will take you down with me.”
My way was simple, I thought. Don"t hurt me. He didn"t quite see things my way.
I screamed, I ranted. He let me talk. He let me ramble on from my soapbox, declaring my threat. And once I had provided him with all the evidence he needed, he tried, judged, and convicted me all while dropping the gauntlet on my sorry ass.
He became so angry. It was the first time I ever saw him
