I had a right to be angry. I had been gaslighted. I had suffered emotional and verbal abuse. He told me that when I couldn’t answer his accusations, he wanted to kick me.
He made up an obscene song as a “tribute” to me and gleefully sang it to his friends. He said that when I wanted to use the bathroom with the door closed, it was a sign that I wasn’t “open enough.” Once he left me to sleep in the car on the streets of Buffalo while he went to a party.
He asked me what I would have done if he were not “supporting” me. When I told him the singers I listened to were popular, he replied, “Eat shit.
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