I BELIEVED THAT HE LOVED ME

However, all the while, l clung to the belief that he loved me. He was a brave, modest man, generous with his assistance and advice—there as a rock, always. As a child, I worried obsessively about him when it was near time for him to come home from work—that something would happen to him, and he might not make it home to us. I guess you can say my love for him was as out of proportion as my fear of him.

Grateful to Be Alive: My Road to Recovery from Addiction by [D.K. Sanz]

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