He wanted to meet my biological family, as I had somewhat of a dysfunctional relationship with them at the time. We flew to stay with them for a week or so. They all hated each other. E hated them because they were manipulative people. The irony is not lost on me. They hated him because he came off as an asshole who would be abusive, and he didn’t cater to them. I spent a few years trying to keep everyone happy, and trying to keep my bio family in my life. Eventually I pushed my bio family away on purpose. They didn’t need to be on this sinking ship of a relationship I was in, and I was tired of feeling used by them. E was getting more violent, and I knew I was close to ending my life.

The day I left him I sent a message to my bio mom to tell her I was safe, and that I’d left E. She never responded nor did I expect her to. What came as a complete shock, though, was finding out that they had unofficially adopted E as their family member. I had gotten a tattoo with one of my biological family members, thinking that we’d always be family. How wrong I was. When I finally decide on what to cover it up with, I’ll hate one less thing about my body, and they will be firmly in the past. Where they belong.

You may think that I’d regret ever meeting E. I don’t. I can’t. While still in the friend stage of the relationship, I met an acquaintance of E’s. Someone I fell in love with.

M came into my life. You may know him as my current husband.