fische

When I was 16 I was so besotted with my dealer. He was a few years older than me, and to my angry teen angst self, the answer to everything I was going through.
I unofficially moved into his house within weeks.
The police were called numerous times by my family as my whereabouts wasn't really known & I wasn't supposed to be living with him.
We used to hole up in his bedroom, limbs entwined, me nude, him in my lingerie, and watch 3am reruns of Jeremy Kyle while constantly smoking & snorting. During the day I would follow him around town on his business, like a lost puppy, constantly high & numb.
A month in he hit me. A few months in I got pregnant. Three months later I was no longer pregnant. Six months later he wouldn't answer his phone or door to me. I eventually collected my things, minus a few pairs of knickers.

I see him around occasionally now & I honestly wouldn't piss on him if he were on fire.

I think that whole relationship explains a lot. My distrust of men, how fragile I feel but hide so well, my protectiveness of the people I love...

Anyway. What doesn't kill you makes you stronger.
And today the sun is shining.