I talked to him for much longer than I should have. I should have just hung up. But no, the part of me that feels responsible and the part of me that still misses the good part of him couldn't find the courage to get off the phone.

He kept trying to be so fucking sympathetic, but if he truly were, he wouldn't have called me.

I am just sick with this. I just want to throw up. I just want to numb out.

I won't. I know I'm still doing better. But I hate it.

He kept doing what Gavin DeBecker calls "forced teaming," trying to talk about "us".

I don't want to talk about what he was doing. I don't want to talk to him. I don't ever want to talk to him again.

He kept telling me that murderers get more sympathy and understanding than he's getting from me and my family.

He fucking took advantage of me and was cruel to me and hit me. Yes, he was as good to me as he could be, but it wasn't good enough.

Fuck this. I just want to go home and go to sleep.