At 54, I Moved In With a Man I Barely Knew So I Wouldn’t Be a Burden to My Daughter

fists, because he never actually hit me, but his moods, his unpredictable shifts from calm to explosive rage.

I began walking more quietly through the apartment, as if making noise might trigger something.

I spoke less, offered fewer opinions, asked fewer questions.

I tried desperately to be easy, to be comfortable, to take up as little space as possible continue reading …