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Small Signs Are Still Signs
Never skip an indication of abuse because it’s not big enough to be “alarming.”
I’ve always been a hopeless romantic. Since I learned about love, I have always been obsessed with the idea of finding my soulmate, someone willing to cross land and sea for me, and to have a love story like all the love movies I liked to watch every Sunday. I was in love with the idea of love. But for a long time, I didn’t do well in relationships. The guys I was surrounded by always seemed to love someone more than me. I always seemed to be somebody’s second choice or the person who was always there for them when they were alone.
I was the funny friend, the person you could always count on, the smartest girl who was always willing to help with tests. But never the one. The few relationships I had in high school always ended quickly because the boy preferred to be single than be with me, and I never had my teenage epic love story. It was as if I wasn’t made to be loved, even though it was one of the things I wanted most.
Then, I entered college, where I met Jessie (fake name). He was charming and made me feel seeing. I finally thought I would have a nice story. He was a man who seemed to be self-confident. He approached me as if he knew I would accept the date without even saying a single word. He talked to me…
