Not Priscilla

I ran down the stairs, two steps at a time. The scene eerily reminded me of that time when my beloved had failed an exam and became so devastated and depressed that one day she had simply bolted out of our apartment, scared that I might think ill of her too.

Our first few weeks together had been hard for both of us. For her, because she had always been in abusive relationships, beginning with her mom and passing through her various boyfriends… all of them complete manipulative Assholes. For me, it was hard because I had simply never shared my life or space with anyone. From the time I left home for college, I had never lived with anyone and was more than used to managing my own space and time. I had had it easier than her because my family had always had my back. We were a close-knit group that helped and relied on each other.

It took us months of hard work and patience to become as close as we were by the end of my life. But it was well worth it.