Can love and hate occupy the same space?

The mistake that Miles said I would live to regret was back in my home and my bed. Yes, I had taken him back, only to repeat a very unpleasant cycle. His pledging and promises of change had reeled me back in. His tongue was spread with honey, and his mind was filled with hostility, but I allowed him to return. He was persuasive without appearing controlling, leading one to believe that you were the one making the decisions. I was skeptical but went against my intuition and gave it another shot. To this very moment, I cannot explain why I gave in to his empty promises.

 Have you been under any stress lately?”

Are you kidding? I wanted to shout. I’m a walking stress molecule, I’m in a bad relationship, I need medication for depression, my kids are going through hell, and my family hates me. I feel like shit. Help!

  I was in foreign waters, not understanding the language and unable to translate my desperation. I was now in need of a life jacket, but instead of Miles throwing me one, he watched me drown.