My friend has to ask her boyfriend if she can hang out with me or not. He usually says no. He says a lot of things, most of them involve reminding her why he thinks she's worthless. And why she's probably cheating on him. Then sometimes he says sweet things that make her forget his cruelty, and then she tells me, "he's better now, he really did apologize."

It devastates me, my friend is one of the most beautiful, intelligent, independent women and the other day she told me she's trapped.

Trapped.

Hearing that word come out of her mouth brought tears to my eyes because no human being should feel trapped by another, but also because I remember that feeling all too well. He made me feel there was no one else I could turn to, and more importantly he made me feel I couldn't turn to myself because I just wasn't good/strong/pretty/talented/intelligent enough to get away from him, so I was trapped. It was like living in a house with no doors; that's what an abusive relationship is like. He's the reason for one of my first anxiety attacks, and I remember his reaction still so painfully to this day: He laughed. I sat feeling my throat close up, my hands curl up into useless balls and my body turned against me, while I watched him laugh. In between laughs, he playfully touched my knee and said, "See? What would you do without me?"

I remember one night he took me to dinner, and there was a table of basketball players to our left. After a few moments of silence while looking at the menu, he said, "I saw you look at that table of guys when we walked in. I saw you. If you think I'm paying for your food now, you're wrong." I left the restaurant crying.

I also remember once we went on a picnic, and it went so well I thought I was dreaming, until we went to the grocery store and he told me he was breaking up with me. I was secretly thrilled, I was finally free. But on the way home, he told me it was a test to see my reaction, and that I failed.

I remember once losing it, and screaming at the top of my lungs in his truck— and he laughed. "You think I'm bad? Imagine what kind of person you would end up with if you left me," he said to me.

But then there was always flowers, the I love you's, and songs, poems, and letters written to me. The multiple phone calls. I always thought he was truly sorry, and then the next day would come.

But those are all just memories now, and while I live with them and some that are horrifically worse, none of that is a reality for me anymore because I broke free. Unfortunately that's not the case for my beloved friend. Looking back now, it truly is a miracle I ever gathered the strength to leave him. If it wasn't for the love and support of dear friends, I wouldn't have been able to prove him wrong. As it turns out, I do just fine without him, 100% better, actually. He was wrong, who I'm with now is incredible and has shown me what it's like to have a good, healthy relationship.

But for my friend, this is the living hell she is in every day and night. The hundreds of phone calls. The threats. The accusations. The manipulation. She lives in a house with no doors— or so she thinks. I tell her every day there is a door, she can leave, and I'll help her, but none of that has changed much. The truth is there's not much anyone can do for a loved one in an abusive relationship, but to those who are in abusive relationships, there is something you can do: You can believe. Believe you are good/smart/pretty/talented enough. Believe you will be completely fine without him. Believe he is a liar. But don't believe when he says "sorry." If you relate to any situations in this article even in the slightest, I encourage you to leave, and leave as soon as possible because no matter what he/she has told you, the house you're in has doors and you must walk out one today.