I set out this morning with Zari-A. Again. In the car. I washed out the color of my hair so it’s more natural now. I think the last time I had naturally colored hair was when I was fifteen or something like that. It surprises me to look in the mirror and see it.
I’m heading north. Zari is thinking Bellingham, WA. We’ve been all over the US. I doubt anyone would expect me to head just a few hundred miles north this time. Or maybe it would be expected. Zari is so good at hiding tracks, I’m not certain how I keep getting found.
If you must know, I hate the sense of being out of control. I was out of control for my entire childhood. I worked hard to get to a place where I was in control. Part of the satisfaction of working with Zari A is the fact that she gives me more control. I know I’m safe if I’m in control. If I’m not, then I’m not safe. Of course, that’s what abuse is about, taking control and maintaining control over someone else. I can’t believe I fell into that trap.
I’m doing what I can to get out of it, but he won’t stay behind. He keeps hunting. I don’t like being prey.