And then I hear that you may stay here for your master's degree. I'm not surprised. You've always been smart. Of course you got an offer. But the potential for you to stay here means I've got the potential to lose out on my dream of grad school here. It means I cannot continue the project of my dreams because the thought of maintaining what I've been doing in order to cope with what you've done to me and the potential to see you every day for two more years is terrifying. I can't continue like this. And you don't care.
You will continue doing what you've been doing to women throughout your undergrad until either a woman decides the abuse is something she can handle for the rest of her life to stay with you, or she ends up in the hospital.
And I can do nothing. You've done your piece. All I can wait for is to hope you accept a position somewhere else so that I can finally heal and become the person I was on track to be before I met you. I hate you. But you don't care, and because of that the people around you will suffer until you do.
—Taping myself together