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2019 was probably the worst year of my life. I met a guy at a New Year's party in 2018. You know, one of those kissed at midnight

deals that has butterflies doing loop to loops in your stomach. He was tall, dark, handsome, every girl's dream.

We swapped numbers, went on a few amazing dates, and after about a month of us hanging out and sleeping together, he asked me to be his girlfriend.

Of course I said yes, how could I not? He was everything I ever wanted. But time has a funny way of proving you wrong, doesn't it?

And if crystal balls existed and I had the capacity to peer into the murky fogs of one to see my future, I'd have never let him kiss me that night as the clock's ticked over to the New Year.

I'd have run a mile and never looked back. A few months into our relationship, his true nature came to the forefront. He was abusive, extremely abusive.

It was all just verbal at first, telling me I was dumb when I got something wrong or said something incorrect. Then he got possessive, getting angry when I met up with or talked to my guy friends.

He'd hide my phone, my car keys, my shoes, anything he could to control my behavior or movement. Then it was stuff like my diet. He was obsessed with making me lose weight, so like I'd buy myself some sweet treats to enjoy after a long day of work.

Only to find them gone when I got home. Not just throw them in the trash either. He'd ruin them utterly.

I bought a carrot cake from a local organic bakery and instead of just throw it out, he'd pour bleach or some kind of caustic cleaning fluid all over it in the sink. Like it was a pure power play.

He didn't even try to be sneaky about it. Once he drove me to a gym near our apartment, told me to get out and not to come back until sundown.

He expected me to work out for hours on end. I remember just sitting outside the place and crying until one of the trainers there took pity on me and drove me home. Big mistake.

He beat the life I had of me that night. He didn't just slap me around, I mean. He really beat me senseless.

It started as soon as I walked through the door. He'd saw me getting out of a random guy's car and just lost it. He beat me in the TV room. Followed me into the kitchen and slapped me there. Then I tried to hide in the bedroom. He kicked the door in and beat me unconscious.

At least that's what I'm assuming happened. I woke up the next morning with blood on my pillow. Still in that gym gear he made me buy. And I was too scared to go to the cops. I know they can be a great help these days and the protocol for dealing with domestic abuse has improved dramatically but I was just terrified.

Eventually things came to a head. After a particularly vicious argument over a dog, I said it wasn't good idea and he blew his top.

He put a gun to my temple and pulled the trigger. I think the worst part of the whole cycle was the apologies. I know that seems like a weird thing to say after telling you who almost shot me but I'm serious.

He was damaged, extremely damaged, and the crying and apologies after a fight always made me feel a deep sympathy for him. But enough was enough.

...