"This can't keep happening. Someone's going to get hurt."

"I know officer. I know."

"This is the third time we've been called about Mr. Black."

"Please. Just let us handle him."

I sat in the other room, listening to the conversation through the too thin walls. Listened to them talk about me. Use words like dangerous. Confused. Crazy. I couldn't quite complain that they were talking about me like I wasn't in the room, because technically, I wasn't.

I was left alone with my thoughts. The image of the woman I loved. My kids. My family. Afraid of me. How could they forget me? Me?

A knock at the door gave me a bit of warning before he walked in, and I felt a twisted storm inside of me on seeing him. Confusion. Betrayal. Jealousy. Guilt.

"Damian?" he greeted me.

"I told you, my name isn't Damian!" I protested for the millionth time. "My name is William Black!"

He sits down next to me, pain and concern in his eyes. He shakes his head. "No, man. I am."