He became obessive. Or rather I became obsessed...?

It didn't matter either way because the relationship turned into something out of a murder mystery movie. We both became insane. 

He would drink and curse. I would sit quietly as he abused me. But I loved him. That was always the excuse. The same ing excuse that every person on this god damn planet uses.

I'd get jealous. Overly jealous when he was around other girls. He flirted too easily.

And it hurt that he didn't understand that when he was mine. He was mine. And mine only. I was never good at sharing.

The abuse became worse as I got myself involved. Hitting and punching him, slapping him a few bottles were thrown here and there. And in the end, we had always managed to end up in bed.

With the events of the day before polluted in our mind.

Then one day, he started to disappear for a period of days. It drove me insane you know? Not knowing his every move, where he was, what he was doing, who he was with. My mind is ticking even thinking of it right now.

And when he came back, he acted like nothing had happened. Like it was norm.

Hahaha.

Hahahahaha.

It makes me laugh. Thinking about the stupid days, hours, minutes, and seconds when he wasn't there. I'd also end up so upset that the house would be littered with bottles upon bottles of soju, beer, wine, anything with alcohol in it to keep my brain and body from functioning. 

We would fight because he would become upset at the sight of me being drunk, my makeup smeared face, the horrid stench that came off of my body from the days of waiting for him.

Then that madness turned into love and he would carry me and bathed me clean again. 

This went on for months before we had gotten so pissed off at each oth