I Stayed in an Abusive Relationship Because I Didn’t Want to Be Lonely
CW: Domestic abuse
I saw him sitting on a table in the neighbor’s backyard. He was strumming a guitar and smoking a cigarette. He was gorgeous with long dark blonde hair and a thin build and he was right next door. I’d never seen him before. It was as if he’d been delivered by angels, the answer to my prayers.
When I went inside, my grandma sat at the kitchen table visiting my mom. Grandma loved to play matchmaker so I told her about the cute guy I saw at the neighbor’s.
“Oh, that’s the Morrison’s grandson. He’s just moved here from Florida,” she said.
I knew Grandma would have the lowdown. She talked to everyone and knew everything going on in town. She was the town’s National Enquirer.
“I have to meet him,” I said. “Let’s go pretend like you and Mom want to visit with Mrs. Morrison.”
Off we went on our matchmaking mission.
A match made in hell
We sat in Mrs. Morrison’s living room drinking iced tea. Grandma got straight to the point.
“My granddaughter Chevie wants to meet your grandson,” she said.
Just then, Levi walked through the room and Mrs. Morrison introduced us. We excused ourselves and went to the backyard to talk. His hazel eyes, high cheekbones, and long locks made me feel giddy. We talked about music and our backgrounds. He grew up in a nearby town but moved to Florida for a few years.
His dad was a legend for being a hellraiser in the town where I grew up. He’d been in and out of prison. I’d heard stories from my mom. Wild and reckless, he died young. Levi’s mom and stepdad raised him. Levi followed in his dad’s footsteps and had been in prison for cocaine, but he only drank beer now, he said.
Levi asked me to hang out with him the next day and I quickly accepted.
At 10 a.m. he pulled his blue clunky car into the driveway to pick me up. He walked to the porch where I sat waiting and handed me a brown bag with a large can of beer inside. At 10 a.m. I’d expected…
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