I spent $1,400 on ticket for a plane that left in an hour. I threw what I could in a backpack, ordered an Uber, told my boss I had to drop off early and would work over the weekend to make up for it, and left my apartment.

I thought we were about to be engaged and I would be moving to be with him, only to find out he was cheating on me. Then, a mockery is made of my pain in these twisted psychological ways that were making me feel like I was truly losing my grip on reality. Worst of all, everything inside of me was saying that the man who was my comforter was actually the perpetrator. These beliefs were each on their own the strongest and most important Truths I had ever felt, and they were entirely incompatible with each other. One brought all the comfort Life would ever need and the other was an unfathomable pain I never thought Life would ever produce.

I was determined to learn the truth.

I missed my connection but some wonderful man got me reassigned later that night. I’m supposed to include him in my vows as a thank you. That will not happen.

I touched down in a city a few hours away from His with mere minutes before the car rental place closed up for the night. I don’t much remember the drive to his apartment but I do remember screaming at these profiles and random text messages constantly appearing, poking at me. I was being made a fool and He was having sex with other men behind the cloak of faux reassurance, I was certain.

I arrived at his apartment complex around 2 or 3 in the morning. Unbeknownst to me, I was parked a few doors down because I couldn’t read the numbers on the signs outside of each door. I sat and wondered what the hell I was going to say while also feeling uneasy, as if I had entered some domain in which I was not welcome—as if I no longer had a claim to see Him. This strange unwelcomeness in the air weighed me down and I vaguely remember the sounds of cars slowly coming and going from the lot as I fell asleep after my 12 hour journey.

I awoke and it was daylight. The uneasiness in the air was gone so I walked up to a door—discovered it was the wrong door—then corrected myself and knocked. I didn’t look at his face when he answered but I’m sure he was shocked to see me. I walked right in and sat on the couch.

The man I loved, who I knew I could trust and with his gentle lips, re-grounded me in reality.

I could not for the life of me remember why specifically I was there. I could dictate well the past weeks of psychological distress I was experiencing, the profiles too specific to be coincidence and the text messages at all hours of the night from random phone numbers. I could vocalize specifically the reasons why I believed my phone was bugged and I was being tracked. Internally, I could Venn diagram my competing beliefs that my partner of 6 years was my protector and also that he was my tormentor in the shadows. But what specifically triggered me to spend $2,000 to get to this city immediately I suddenly couldn’t quite remember.