I’m writing to give hope to anyone in an abusive relationship. I once was. Years ago, I was engaged to a man who was very insecure and thus very jealous. While we were both guilty of drinking too much and arguing over petty issues, one night it went too far. I stormed off to bed, telling him to leave me alone to sleep, but he wouldn’t allow that. He burst in, and, irritated, I made a smart remark. I shortly believed that was the last thing I would ever do.
I lay down and ignored him until I heard him rifling around in the closet; then I opened my eyes to see a gun pointed at me. I leapt out of bed and ran (naked) through the house with nowhere to go. I wound up curled in front of the couch, quaking, positive that it was my last moment on this earth. I don’t know why — one of my guardians was looking out for me — but he lost his nerve or something and left. I am so grateful to still be alive.
It still took a while, but I eventually left him and am now happy. You can be, too.