A text message, sent from rehab, after I asked him to stop calling if he was going to be abusive: "I don't know where you get this abuse sh*t from. Might want to consider putting the down the bottle yourself, it's messing with your head."
Where'd I get the abuse sh*t from? How about he threw a glass patio table through our sliding glass door, or pushed me into the wardrobe and slammed the door on my hand, or played guitar until his fingers bled then ran around the house stark naked spraying blood on all the walls. HA! Yeah, I'm the one who needs to put the bottle down...