“I see him everywhere. At the gym. In the café. At first, I would run in the opposite direction, find the nearest bathroom, and melt down. Like have a total panic attack. But one day I just decided to stop running. I pushed my chin up. I walked right past him. I don’t know if he saw me. Now I just walk around without asking permission. I’m working on not letting it define me or draw limits on how I move through space, but it’s hard. At least I’m trying, I guess.”

Tears well up in my eyes. I am so proud of her. I have watched her struggle for the past month. The days she didn’t get out of bed. The secret crying in the bathroom. The dead, despaired look in her eyes. She still made it to this moment of glee and celebration, and she gets to keep all the rest of the moments of her life despite what he took from her. Make them her own.

“The battle cannot be lost by those who persevere,” I say.

“Yea, it is a daily battle. I filed a complaint. They said they’d look into it and get back to me, but I know they never will. I was so afraid walking in there, like I was shaking while I filled out the form. Thanks for pushing me to do it.”

Manda Panda suddenly jumps up from the bed and changes the song on her iPod, turning the music back up.

“You know what, fuck these men and their shitty love. Always takin’ shit that don’t belong to them. Fuck these men and all their bullshit!” she yells at the top of her lungs.

Tina Turner’s “What’s Love Got to Do with It” starts blaring from the speakers.

“Why do you have so much eighties music?” I ask.

“The only thing I love more than a little drinking is eighties music. It was a vibe, a wave that’ll probably never come again. Savor it.”

I try to let go of the hope I had in finding a relationship here. Throw it away like Manda Panda is doing with Trevor, but the shadow clings to me. I think back to my anticipation and excitement over Bryce. If just the possibility of love is that invigorating, what is actual love like? I don’t know if I’ll ever find out. I feel worthless without the hope of love.

I start stomping the ground screaming, “Damnit!”

“What are you doing?”

“I’m trying to release something by stomping it out.”

“Ooh, that’s a good idea. I’m gonna stomp on Trevor’s head.”

Manda Panda starts stomping and yelling, “Die, Trevor! Stupid man-boy-looking bitch! You took my body, but you will never take my freedom!” she screams while imitating Mel Gibson in Braveheart.