At age 15 a guy I've known since elementary school became my best friend. The most amazing best friend a girl could ask for. Then when I turned 18 our completely harmless friendship turned into so much more, he became the love of my life. At 19 I was pregnant with our first son and we got married the month before he was born. It was the perfect relationship, we were best friends and we were pretty much all each other had.

Then everything changed. It was like getting married flipped some sort of switch in him. He started saying things to me that I wouldn't even say to my worst enemy. Then the physical abuse started. Nothing too serious (or that's what I told myself). A black eye here and there, nothing I couldn't handle, because after all he was my best friend. No matter how bad it got he was still my best friend. Two years went by and we had our second son. The abuse was absolutely horrible at times but other times we still the same best friends that we had been since I was 15 yrs old.

By the time our second son was 1 my husband got strung out on meth and needless to say it got so much worse. He caused us to lose everything multiple times and refused to choose his family over his new addiction.

Then we had our 3rd son. He wasn't even there when I gave birth to him because he was at home sleeping off a week long high. He never even seen his newest baby boy until we were being released from the hospital. Then things seemed ok again despite the drug use. There were always months here and there were it seemed like maybe things were turning around but then it would happen again, he'd stay high for too long and beat me all over again.

My 3 boys were witnessing this, I had completely changed everything about who I was just to try to keep him from snapping. We were all miserable, but how could I leave? By this time we had been married for 6 years. I was a stay at home mom the entire time, and he was still my best friend, still the same guy that treated me like a queen all those years ago, right? I couldn't leave him and raise 3 boys on my own.

Then it finally happened, he beat me worse than he ever had before then proceeded to rape me as I begged and cried for him to stop.

I left the next morning and haven't seen or heard from him since. His kids don't even remember him anymore. It's been 2 years now.

But funny thing is, I don't hate him, I'm not mad at him, I just simply don't feel anything at all for him.

It took me along time to become normal again after living that way for 6 years but I did it. Me and my boys are so much happier now.