Finally on my own again after surviving Al and his red flags, I thought I’d be at peace. My apartment was small and quiet, but it was mine. Every box held something familiar — my things, my safety net, my idea of comfort. A friend helped me move in, though he wasn’t thrilled I’d ever lived with Al in the first place. As I sat surrounded by cardboard and exhaustion, he gave me one last warning: “Don’t be stupid next time.” He’d seen the quirks. He’d seen the danger. He knew I’d barely escaped.
I settled into a routine, quiet and predictable. But loneliness has a way of whispering lies. I missed what Al had represented — the illusion of partnership, the future my parents had drilled into me: married, children, happily ever after. I didn’t miss him so much as the idea of not being alone. Old habits don’t disappear; they linger like ghosts. A tiny voice kept telling me I’d had what I wanted — it just needed a little mothering, a little polish.
So when he came back and asked to stay with me, I tripped over myself to let him in again. And just like before, the chaos rose fast enough to drown me.
He tried to court me again — weekend trips, gifts, even a new car. The money didn’t impress me. His time did. His attention. His presence. I was starving for comfort, and he knew it.
Once he had me hooked, the cracks showed up quicker this time. Red flags came flying at me like a swarm, and I swatted them away like flies — annoyed they were disturbing my imaginary future. His paranoia, delusions, and hallucinations escalated at a pace I couldn’t keep up with. I patched what I could, held my breath, and braced for impact.
I knew it was going to get messy. I just didn’t know how to walk away. Chaos felt like validation — proof that I was helping, fixing, making his life better. Common sense tried to warn me, but I’d thrown that out the window with the first set of red flags. I laughed at the danger and marched forward like a good little soldier.
Spoiler: this is the part where I should’ve run. I didn’t,
K.
I'm Still Here. Somehow... 