He hurt me constantly, as if he felt compelled to do it all the time. “You hurt me,” I said, in quiet tones. Never did I scream at him. I tried to convey the pain as I told him. I was sure he could see it in my tears. But no, he didn’t like tears. He blanked me out every time he saw me cry because he didn’t want to admit to himself that he was the cause of my pain. All he could say was, “I love you more than I’ve ever loved anyone. I couldn’t possibly hurt you.” It was the strongest case of denial I’d ever seen in another person. If he refused to own what he did to me, he could simply keep right on doing it. He refused to hear me. He refused to comfort me. He refused to treat me respectfully. He refused to accept me for who I am.
He REFUSED himself…right out of my life.