A year ago I told my sister I was unsafe and took an Uber to a mental ward for the 7th (8?) time. I had been to this one once before and as soon as I walked in the ward I felt safe again. It was home.    One of the counselors there and I got very close. I'm ashamed to say he was everything I looked for in a person, not even in a sex/love way.As a kid I dreamed about a knight in shining armor, and he was exactly that.    He would talk to me personally every night, staying after his shift ended. I remember one night opening up to him about the abuse after all patients had gone to bed. He stayed so late that night, and I told him "go home. You have a kid." He told me "I'm not leaving until I know you're safe. Those people are never allowed to visit. We'll report them together. I always knew there was more you weren't telling me, and now everything makes sense. It's okay. You're safe here, and I'm not letting anything else happen to you." He said he didn't do all this for anyone.    Locked wards have very strict rules, and I broke them frequently. I slowly got all privileges taken away for multiple incidents. I would sleep in a chair next to the nurses station. I was only allowed to use crayons, since I abused pens.     But this counselor bent the rules and I was allowed to have my guitar. He knew how to play and would hold down the strings for me so I could have a capo. I played for relaxation most nights, and other patients would stay up just to listen.    Before I left, he told me "the only way I'm ever allowed to hear about you, or see you on the news is if you get famous for music." Meaning, he didn't want to hear that I had killed myself.     It's been so long, but sometimes I pray to him. I hope he gets the message and knows somehow I'm still breathing. I want him to know I've kept my promise.    I love him so much it hurts to hear his name, and I will never tell anyone because they think it's a crush. It's more than that. He saved me.    Thank you. If you're out there somewhere.