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The moment I knew I loved him, when I knew I couldn’t live in this life without him, was when I was sitting in his bedroom begging him to keep going. He was convinced I was using him for his body and for sex and I couldn’t get him to understand that it wasn’t true. I couldn’t get him to understand that he was having a manic episode and that all of this would pass. The moment I realized I loved him was the moment he assumed he was too far broken and gone to be saved.
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