I remember the day we met. We were introduced by a mutual friend and after just a few minutes of talking, we hit it off. I gave you my number and told you to text me. You did later that night and for the next few weeks, we spent day in and day out talking. You actively listened to all the boring details about my day and shared with me about yours. We talked about our dreams, our hopes, what we aspired out of life. We commented on how our thoughts always lined up. I knew I was falling for you hard.

I remember the day you asked me out. It was evening time and we were telling each other about our days. When I asked you about yours, you told me it was so much better now that you were talking to me. A few minutes later, you asked me to be yours and I happily said yes. You were my first real relationship. Just like that, a new chapter of my life began.

I remember the honeymoon phase. Everything was straight out of a Nicholas Sparks book. I woke up to good morning texts followed by paragraphs telling me why you were so lucky to have me. We spent all our free time together. We texted nonstop throughout the day. I was on cloud nine. No one else mattered and nothing else made me happier.

I remember our first fight. We were two months into our relationship, and for the first time, I felt reality setting in. The perfect glass that was the honeymoon phase, shattered. You let your true colors show. After a few months of dating, we were arguing more than usual. It was exhausting and I told you I couldn't do it anymore. You begged me to stay. You told me you couldn't live without me and that things would be different. I believed it all.

I remember watching you break every promise.

I remember the manipulation. Your controlling, narcissistic personality caused every day to be mentally torturing for me. I wasn't allowed to hang out with my friends because you wanted every minute of my time. I was constantly yelled at and told I was wrong. I was criticized for every part of my appearance and personality in the most contradicting way. You told me I was too childish, but that I never did anything fun. You told me I didn't know how to smile properly but would get angry when I didn't want to take pictures with you. When I called you out on it, you told me, “We are at a point where I should be able to say things to you without you always getting hurt". But when I was upset with you, your words manifested into “I can't believe you would hurt me like that".

I remember believing it was my fault. I began to believe all the hateful things you would say to me. I began to think there was something wrong with me. I felt responsible for all of our fights because I was always blamed for them. I kept my mouth shut because I didn't want to be yelled at again.

I remember reaching my breaking point. Your control on me grew even tighter. I lost my friends and my relationship with my family hung on by a thread. I was done. I didn't want to be in this relationship any longer. I told you I couldn't do it anymore.

I remember the anger.

I remember the rage.

I remember you threatening to kill yourself if I ever left.

I remember crying profusely. The one person I should have been able to put my trust in, scared the living daylights out of me.

I remember the vicious cycle. Me wanting to leave threatened your sense of control. You started buying me flowers, posting cute pictures of us, and sending me long texts again. But once you were sure I wasn't going to leave, the mind games came back. You would yell at me, but also buy me flowers to "make up" for what you had done. You told me I looked fat in all my clothes, but would surprise visit me at work. I felt that because of the occasional nice things you did and said, I owed it to you to overlook the bad. I let you do this to me for another year, until I knew I had to end this.

I remember when it finally happened. I finally was able to muster up the courage to break up with you. But after I did, the next few weeks, I was bombarded with Facebook messages. You kept referring to me as “your girl" as you refused to give me the power to end it. When I reiterated for the billionth time that we were over, you told me I would never find someone like you again. I prayed to every god you were right.

I remember the aftermath. The emotional toll of your abuse still rings through every fiber of my being. You tore me apart and left me to pick up the pieces by myself. How was I supposed to do put the pieces back together if I had lost the big picture in the process?

Three years later, I remember it all. You don't know what you did to me, but I will never forget.