Andrew couldn’t breathe. His body wouldn’t let him.

Before he met you, he was with another women. As most men in their early twenties are. She was beautiful. The exact depiction of beautify in his eyes that he dreamed of nearly every night. She was tall, had long legs, blonde curly hair. Wide, hopeful, innocent blue eyes. His fucking dream, really.

However, she didn’t have the personality that her looks portrayed. She got mad easily. It only took a few months for things to crumble apart, leaving Andrew to sit there, desparately tying to piece the relationship back together, staying quiet when she didn’t want to talk to him, saying sorry when she shouted at him for something he couldn’t control, never questioning the fact that she was always on her pone and always came home so late, being dropped off by cars he never recognized as her friends.

Then, it got worse. She got angrier. Her hand heavy on his arms and head, reprimanding him for the dumbest things. Forgotten items at the shop, saying something he shouldn’t have, shouting at her while they fought for the umpteenth time that week, it was always something. She as honestly just looking for excuses. An excuse to give him a little reminder why he couldn’t leave when he looked in the mirror.

But she was magic to him. Something that he couldn’t… not leave. He had to stay. Because when she wasn’t slapping him and shouting at him, she was the sweetest woman ever. Calling him nicknames and showering him in love and kisses. He always found his way back to her. Until she threw him out, that is.

Apparently she had found an equally pathetic —her words— man to control and decided Andrew wasn’t… the right fit anymore. And for some reason, he spiraled. He spiraled thinking about the fact that he didn’t have anyone to say ‘I love you’ to anymore. But he did feel a little free when he could make jokes and not get a comment or a smack to the face. He felt a little more free when he wore his favourite green jumper for the first time in months and no one told him he looked worthless.

Then, he met you. Everything was different. He was open with you about the things that went on in his past. The things that he was ashamed to open up about because he never really thought that men belonged in the field of DV. But you were nothing but understanding. Listening to him, comforting him when he spiraled about something or thought about other things that she did.

But you couldn't stop this spiral. Not when she was right in front of him.

You and Andrew were in town walking around, having a nice day to yourselves, living life like a normal couple would. But he froze upon the sight of her… the woman he dreaded seeing. But again, he still felt the tug in his chest. He hated that he missed her so much…

“I… Love we should go.. the other way, maybe. Please?”

He asks, almost desperately, nearly tugging your hand to maneuver you the opposite direction, swallowing thickly.