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A Tale of Camella: Part Two

A Tale of CamellaA Tale of CamellapartTWO
"Guh", I said.. Violence had often been a part of her life. From her step dad, who started tossing her around when she was three, through a string of various boyfriends. Even we scuffled when we lived together, something I never thought myself capable of.

Afterwards she was diagnosed with Borderline Personality Disorder. When I read the symptoms and diagnosis criteria online I was stunned with realization. So thatís why the sweetest, silliest, smartest girl would suddenly see me as a demon and follow me through the house, screaming and accusing me of the worst things she could come up with. No one ever said the kind of shit that came out of her mouth. It was astounding. And it got out of control.

One day I realized that we were wrestling desperately on the floor as I was trying to drag her out of the house to get her to leave me alone and I heard myself wailing, "This is so fucked up. I donít want to live like this," over and over again. I could never understand how this happened. I could never see myself as someone who would fight physically with someone else.

"She attacked me!" I said to my sister, "I was just trying to restrain her!"

"You could have left," my sister said solemnly, "the moment you put your hands on her itís already out of control. You can only take responsibility for yourself."

Ultimately I did. I had decided to leave. She tried to physically stop me as I gathered clothes and I told her if she didnít sit down I was going to call the police. I drove to a payphone in my bare feet at midnight and called the sheriff. She ended up being convicted of resisting arrest. It was my last stand against our violence, and even though it caused almost more trouble than it was worth, it put a definitive end to our romantic relationship, to say the least.

to be continuedÖ