Then began a pattern of fights. Brett would do something uncool and hurtful, like be mean to my best friend or imply that I was cheating on him. I would get angry and he would apologize, often bearing flowers and stuffed monkeys (some girls like teddy bears; I like primates). I would forgive him, he would promise to change and the whole cycle would reset itself. "I'm sorry baby, now here's a present." How cliche can you possibly get? Textbook abusive pattern, ripped straight from a Lifetime TV movie, only I was too caught up in the situation to notice.
That's not to say I was perfect and never did anything wrong. While he was slamming doors and yelling, I was yelling right back. I got irritable for no reason, was jealous of other girls and wasn't Ms. Super Well Adjusted myself. But generally speaking, I knew the difference between right and wrong, healthy and unhealthy behavior. I would deal with a fight by staying up late and listening to Slayer or Tori. He would use it as an excuse to drink a fifth of Jack Daniels and call me from a payphone in the alley where he was throwing up.
