Dear younger K,
Leave him.
I’m so sorry you’re living this. I’m sorry you don’t know it’s wrong yet. I’m sorry you believe no-one will ever love you the way he loves you.
He doesn’t deserve you.
When he gets angry because you didn’t come home on time, because you disagree on something, or because you don’t put out?
It’s not your fault.
You know that sinking feeling every time he touches your neck or the small of your back because you know what he’s after? You know how you sit as far away from him on the sofa as you can every night because you want to do everything in your power to avoid making him want it? You know the sickness you feel when he says “can you at least act like you’re enjoying it?”.
You are not broken. And it is not your fault.
I wish I could point you to the real love. The love you deserve. The love you already have but just don’t see yet. Friend love. Family love. Self love. Love that’s fun. Love that’s respectful. Love that is kind. I wish I could open your eyes to love that’s anything but his “love”.
I promise you this isn’t love. I promise you will feel the real kinds of love. And I promise you will have love for yourself some day.
Just please. Leave him.
I love you,
Older K.