Not only did I become obsessed with him, I could not let him go either. Our courtship – if you can call it that – was my making him feel guilty if he wanted to end the relationship. Year after year, we would break up and, for a few weeks, we would go our own way. But in my own way, I would make sure that I went where he was. I made myself look sweet and innocent – which was the kind of look he liked and which had attracted him to me in the first place. If I could not be where he was, I got friends who were there to talk about me. I clung to him, and he could not escape me. I never wondered if he was happy with me. I assume he was to a degree because he did stay with me, but I never thought it might be out of pity or because he felt guilty. I was wrapped up in my own obsession.
After a few weeks it had become a sexual relationship, and in that sexual side I found the love I had not received at home – which made me even more obsessed. The years went by, and one year I met another man during a time apart from Pete. I found another “soul mate,” but he was in the army and was away most of the year. Finally, after 5 years of courtship and my constant nagging for a ring on my finger, Pete bought me a necklace. It shut me up for a while, but I kept hoping. I could not see that I was really not happy. On one of our times apart he had gone out with someone else, and it made me so jealous of him. Thankfully, it did not last, but I became like a woman obsessed over this incident. Shortly after this, I found myself pregnant. I was 21 years of age and terrified. Of course, I thought “Now he will marry me.” I told him one night at a bus stop before going home as he kissed me goodnight. I have never seen anyone in such shock!