Once upon a time I was so afraid of being alone that I would put up with stuff, that I shouldn't. I thought being alone was far worse than staying. Stupid little girl. I thought nothing could be scarier that being alone.
I still struggle with that same fear, it hasn't gone away. I just know better now, that letting your fears decide how you live, isn't living.
What if despite doing the right thing, my fears come to be true?
(I have heavily edited this post for lots of reason's but mostly because it isn't how I want to deal with this situation).