I stayed because I loved him.
Because every time he emerged from his selfish bubble and was kind it rekindled a hope and a dream in me and that was too mesmerising to be able to step away from, despite the horror of the in between times.
Because I was scared of the unknown, scared of making the wrong decision, scared of being on my own, scared of being a failure, of all that time and effort and pain being for nothing.
Because I'd made a commitment to him and felt like I was betraying him by wanting to leave.
Because I'd never known anything better so I couldn't trust that I wasn't leaving the best thing I'd ever find.
Because he'd made me doubt myself so much that I wondered if I was unreasonable, my expectations were too high or I didn't understand what love really was.
Because facing reality was too painful compared to continuing to hope for my fantasy.
Because I didn't know what else to do.