I was there for her through a bad breakup. Frankly, I'd been looking forward to the breakup for a long time. He really did care about her but he went about it the wrong way to say the least. A more accurate statement is that he abused her and justified it as protection. I'm not sure how he justified cheating on her. She wasn't allowed to dress up or otherwise make herself look better than natural in public because he thought she'd get raped. She wasn't allowed to have male friends for the same reason. I didn't count because he assumed I was gay, but I was only allowed to hang out with her with at least two other females present (or, more realistically, we had to hang out without him knowing).

When they broke up, I took all of her late night phone calls and on one occasion I even drove an hour to her because her parents went out and her brother was with a friend and she wanted another human presence to make the house feel less empty. I cooked stuff a few times because I'm a good cook and she'd usually ask for or just steal some of it even though she had no appetite.

Then one day she decided there was no way that I could genuinely care about her that much. She told me to start hanging up on her and stop doing things she asked me to and occasionally be mean to her so she'd know I was real. I either couldn't or wouldn't do it, so she told me she hated me and that was the last I heard from her.

Her oldest friend would later apologize to me and thank me for having been the best thing that ever happened to her.