He was cruel without raising his voice, and you couldn't stand the way he made you believe that love had to hurt to be true. He loved you when you bent, when you doubted yourself, when you stayed despite the tears and silences that gnawed at you. He gave you attention like a dose never enough to cure, always enough to addict.

He would leave you empty, return when you no longer had the strength to push him away, and you called it a romantic tragedy because hope scared you even more than loss. You knew that this love was a bottomless pit, but you stayed, convinced that disappearing with him was better than surviving without him.