“‘Where are you?’ asked Taya when I finally got a hold of her.
‘I got arrested.’
‘All right,’ she snapped. ‘Whatever.’
I can’t say I blamed her for being mad. It wasn’t the most responsible thing I’ve ever done. Coming when it did, it was just one more irritant in a time filled with them—our relationship was rapidly going downhill.”
“One time I woke up to him grabbing my arm with both of his hands. One hand was on the forearm and one just slightly above my elbow. He was sound asleep and appeared to be ready to snap my arm in half, I stayed as still as possible and kept repeating his name, getting louder each time so as not to startle him, but also to stop the impending damage to my arm. Finally, he woke and let go.
Slowly, we settled into some new habits, and adjusted.”