Dear Joel, I go to sleep to your voice every night. It never occurred to me that I had a story anyone would want to hear until now. Even still, I might be wrong, but here goes... When I first got out of the Army, I was in a relationship with a guy in 3rd Ranger Battalion. Let's call him Jim, Jim Reedus. He and I had an apartment together, and I thought I loved him, so instead of going back to my home in Nebraska, I stayed in Columbus, GA. Our relationship started out with him being what I thought was "protective" over me. Even though I was very attractive at the time, I had very low self-esteem because of an assault I experienced while I was living in the barracks and the bullying I endured afterward. Things moved very quickly. In fact, we were inseparable from the night we met. Anytime another man looked at me, he would get very confrontational toward the guy. I felt safe and protected by this. It made me feel special. I thought he must really value me if he would get so upset by a guy looking my way... at first. Soon when we would be out at the bar, he would get hammered (every time), and act very nasty toward me if he thought I was looking at another guy. This would cause bitter fights, and I would always end up in a fetal position in bed, sobbing. But still, I stayed. The next day he would always apologize, making excuses about it being because he was so drunk, but then he would proceed to explain to me why what I had done was wrong. It wasn't long before I found myself totally isolated from my friends and family because he was so insecure he made me take all of my phone calls on speakerphone. My family begged me to leave, but I was afraid I couldn't get by on my own. Then one night, we came home from the bar in the usual fashion... him screaming in my face and me sobbing. I told him I was going to go get a room at a motel, and he lost his freaking mind! He yanked the keys out of the ignition and threw them into the woodline. He then got out of my car and proceeded to kick in the front quarter panel of my car. He used so much force the hinges to the passenger door were bent. I told the insurance company it was a hit and run, or I never would have been able to get the damage fixed. He screamed at me to get inside the apartment, but I couldn't unlock the door without my keys, which he blamed me for. He then grabbed me and started shoving me into the front door, first by my shoulders, then with his hands around my throat, screaming, "Can't you see how much I love you?!?!" I rasped, "No, no, I can't"! He let go, and I fell to the ground in a heap. That night I had finally had enough. I was finally so angry that I didn't feel afraid anymore. That morning while he was sleeping it off, I began to make plans. I started by telling him he had to leave and move back into the barracks. When he refused, I had to get his chain of command involved to make him leave the apartment and go back to live in the barracks, on someone's couch, in the street, just as long as it wasn't with me. He stalked me mercilessly. I filed for an OP, but he bullied me into dropping it. I knew I would never be free from him if I stayed. So my parents sent me some money via Western Union (this was in 2002), and I rented a Penske truck and a trailer, got help from my neighbor guy friends to load it up as soon as the sun set, and I brought it from where I had hidden it. My best chance was to leave under the cover of darkness. I was really sick that night. I was running a fever of 103 degrees, but I knew it had to be then, it couldn't wait. I just told myself that I just had to get out of the city limits, then I could pull over and sleep a little bit. I figured I would just drive as much as I could and then rest when I couldn't push any harder. I put my puppy in the cab of the truck with me, towed my car behind the truck, and left. I don't know how except through divine intervention, but somehow I managed to drive nonstop from Fort Benning, GA, to my parents' home in rural Nebraska. I stopped only for fuel, at which time I would feed, water, and walk my little dog, Scruffy, use the facilities, and get what food and drink I could afford on my meager budget. I drove 14 hours and pulled into my parents' drive around 10 AM CST. I crashed on their old couch and slept for nearly 24 hours straight. I still hope for nothing but pain and suffering for him. He turned me onto pills, then coke, then crack, all while he was on active duty. He was a scumbag of a soldier and man. He reached out to me on social media a couple years ago. I told him what a piece of steaming shit he was, and I told him to rot in Hell. It felt amazing, even after all these years, to say that to him and have him be the one stammering. I'm actually glad he reached out to me and gave me the opportunity to verbally rip him to shreds. I'm not afraid of you anymore, Jim.