I simply told him we needed to call an electrician. He blamed me, started fixing it himself, got angry, threw a screwdriver, yelled at me, at the outlet, at the whole world.
And at that moment, I realized: it would only get worse. He wouldn’t change. And I was almost gone.
I left quietly. While he was gone, I gathered my documents, clothes, the bare essentials. I left everything else. I put my keys on the table, wrote a short note, and closed the door.
I called my daughter. She only said one thing: “Mom, come over.” No questions asked.
He called, wrote, promised to change. I never responded.
Now I’m living peacefully again. I’m with my daughter. I work, I meet with friends, I breathe freely. And now I know for sure: I wasn’t bothering anyone. I simply chose the wrong person—and I put up with it for too long, so as not to be “unnecessary.”
