A few months previously I’d moved into my dream beach cottage. What should have been an idyllic life felt like a chaotic mess.

I’d gone from living alone in a large to house to sharing my tiny home with a predator. The predator had moved into my home as a boarder.

From very early on I knew that I knew that it would never work out for him to remain in my home. However, in true predator style, anytime I expressed concerns and suggested he leave or ask him to leave, he’d blatantly refused.

In perfect predator timing, he managed to perform heroic acts that confirmed to him my reliance on him for home-handyman type tasks. He’d always put on a show and play the hero to anyone who’d listen.

Whenever I put energy into climbing out of the deep, dark hole he’d thrown me into he somehow managed to dig it even deeper beneath me. And I’d just tumble even deeper.

A serial liar, he managed to rinse and repeat the cycle countless times, convincing me each time that whatever he claimed was true was true.

The harder I fought to free myself, the tighter he pulled his snare.

If you’ve ever observed an insect trying to free itself from a spider’s web you’ll have an inkling of what I experienced.

In typical spider fashion the web became larger, more intricate and my escape more difficult as time progressed.

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