Sunday, December 13, 2015

D.H : Letter Number 1

Right now, I miss you.  And I need to remind myself that I shouldn't, really.  At all.  I need to remind myself that just because I am sad and feeling alone because I am not with you, doesn't mean I am so low I feel the need to self-injure.  Because those thoughts are ever-present.  Ever since you not-so-eloquently asked me on our SECOND DATE if I cut myself.  You saw the scars and couldn't get past them, so you felt you had the right to ask me about them.  Let me be clear: you did not have a right.  I get being curious.  I'm sure that those that see me around town are curious, but they at least have the sense and the decency not to ask me about the scars on my arms.  Why did you feel compelled to ask me?  I couldn't very well lie to you, the truth was written there all over my face, much less the rest of my body.  I likely would have told you eventually.  Why did you have to invade my personal space and ask me?  Couldn't you see that I needed to come to the right time in my own time, not yours?

Speaking of personal space... should we talk about what you did to me?  What I haven't been brave enough to even say out loud to myself, much less to anyone else that I trust?  I deluded myself for several weeks afterward that maybe it was because you liked me, I didn't even realize it was without my consent until several weeks after we split.  And now I have flashbacks.  I remember saying no.  I remember asking you to please, stop.  Did you listen with your ears, or with your penis?  Because if it had been your ears, then you would've stopped when I tried to stop you from even starting in the first place.  I trusted you.  And you betray that trust by doing that?

I need to remind myself that I shouldn't miss you.  I also need to keep telling myself that what you did to me was in no way my fault.  I always knew I'd be forever connected to the boy (you are not deserving of the title of man) who I gave up my virginity to, but because you needed to get off on hurting me, we're connected for a whole new reason.  I was okay (ish) with the sex.  Why did you have to take more?