My therapist told me that I was in an abusive relationship.
I laughed, and said I know.
You see,  when your whole life you've been neglected, abused, and taken advantage of, you search for small pieces of that in your soulmate.
I've turned down many men who would've treated me "right" but all I craved was wrong.
If they were never broken themselves how could they ever understand my pieces.  
I know it's not pretty, but I don't want to date a pretty man.
I don't want a man who eats privilege for breakfast in the morning, or had his whole life planned out for him before he was even born.
Every time I have a bad day I don't need to be greeted with chocolate and roses, I wouldn't even know how to accept that.
When he roars I see fire and it ignites my lust for him,  it's how I was taught love.
When he pushes me I find peace in the words of comfort after.
  I don't want a man who could punch me in the face, but sometimes when he gets mad I need that.
It's how broken people were taught to love.
I chase the danger that our loves sparks.
So dear therapist,
Don't worry about me, I'll be fine.
The day he put his hands around my throat, or injures my essence, is the day I walk out the door.
Don't worry therapist.
I know what I'm doing, I know what I've gotten myself into.
Walking away is what I'm good at.
I've been practicing my whole life.