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I found this via bcnn1.com When I met him, I was only 16 years old. He was 20 and spotted me like a hawk waiting for its prey. After I graduated from high school, he talked me out of going away to college, and by the time I was 19, we were married. When I was 21, I gave birth to his third child. The older two were little girls he had abandoned along with their mothers. He had abused his exes. Mentally and physically.

I knew this, but somehow I thought I would be different — that I wouldn’t piss him off the way they had. I thought I was so special to him that there was no way he would ever hurt me the way he had hurt other women. click here to read more