Earlier this year (last year? what is time?) I applied to (and was accepted into) Leadership Buffalo Essentials through my workplace. We’ve been on hiatus for the last little bit and had our first session in months on Zoom yesterday.

The first speakers were from the Family Justice Center. One of them was a young woman who is now an employee, was previously a volunteer, and she described in painstaking, excruciating detail the personal experience that had led her to where she is now.

As a high school student, she began dating someone who became abusive and controlling. The relationship continued into college. It ended with him stalking and then almost killing her.

I texted Jen during the break that followed, and said “this has brought up a lot of FEELINGS I was unprepared for.”

Because…that could have been me.

It was so long ago that it almost doesn’t seem real. If it weren’t for the tightness in my chest and tears creeping in at the edges of my eyes, I’d think “No, that can’t have been me. That’s a story I read. A movie I saw.”

But it did. I was 15. It was 1990.

It was before cell phones, the internet, GPS tracking.

I broke up with him (for the last time, that is) late in 1992, not quite 3 years later. I don’t remember what the fight was about. (He accused me of cheating, probably?) I do remember what he called me–it starts with a C, and ends with a “you next Tuesday.” I remember that I calmly told him I was through, hung up, and unplugged the phone. (Which, make no mistake, immediately rang when I plugged it back in in the morning.)

It was almost Christmas break, so I did see him a couple of “one last times”–trying to get closure, I guess. He freaked out when someone told him I kissed another guy at a New Year’s Eve party. I was scared. I remember calling one of my friends that I knew would be up–it was really late–in hysterics.

But then he left me alone. I don’t know why, but he left me alone, except for one phone call in my dorm a few months later. His grandmother died, and he was looking for comfort, I guess? I talked to him for a few minutes and hung up.

He did try to contact me once, years and years later. It had to have been after 2001. Someone we both knew from high school gave him my email address, and he sent me a “Hey, how’s it going?” email, and I was just like, “No, I don’t think so.” I deleted it. Ignored it. And that was that.

It was awful. And it left deep emotional scars.

And I am lucky.