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It's shocking that she could blurt it out like that - like it's as common as going to the crapper or as uncomplicated as eating a freaking happy mean. It happened to me 17 years ago and it's still hard for me to even think about it, more so speak of it. She spoke of it in such a casual tone - like there's no hurt, no pain, no anger, no regret and no desire for revenge.
I'm angry at her. I'm angry at her for being so casual about it. I'm angry at her for not feeling what I'm feeling. I feel betrayed. Shouldn't I feel happy that she's handling this in a way that is ideal and quite frankly, perverse? It's not her fault that she doesn't know what happened to me. It's not her fault that I refuse to talk about it, but still, I feel some sort of betrayal over it. It's like she blabbed the secret password to our secret club.
I can't look at her the same way again. I can't feel her sincerity. I feel like I've been fucking had. The worst part is, I've been conned by a fucking amateur. I just can't understand how she can just say those words like they don't sting. Her nonchalant air disturbs me. It's either she's the most well adjusted person on earth or she's lying about it.
I can still feel the shame, the disgust and the anger. I can still feel his hands on me. I can hear him grunting as he pushed into me. I can still feel his breath on my neck. I scrubbed myself raw after that. I rubbed and scrubbed until I had scratches and deep red marks all over my body. I can still remember his words about how I can't tell anyone because I'm just a slut, a whore and nobody will believe me anyway.
And I believed him. I believed that fucker. I believed that statement to be truth for the next ten years. I let him control my consciousness. There were so many attempts at self inflicted death. There were so many men in between. I hate what he did to me. I hate what I did to myself.
So, for her to speak of it as if it were a freaking punchline angers me. She has made the experience and the pain so fucking insignificant.
I'm not a whore. It's not my fault. I know that now, but that doesn't mean I'd like to talk about it or casually mention it over a crude humorous conversation. I don't care what she says, she's not part of the club.
I'm angry at her. I'm angry at her for being so casual about it. I'm angry at her for not feeling what I'm feeling. I feel betrayed. Shouldn't I feel happy that she's handling this in a way that is ideal and quite frankly, perverse? It's not her fault that she doesn't know what happened to me. It's not her fault that I refuse to talk about it, but still, I feel some sort of betrayal over it. It's like she blabbed the secret password to our secret club.
I can't look at her the same way again. I can't feel her sincerity. I feel like I've been fucking had. The worst part is, I've been conned by a fucking amateur. I just can't understand how she can just say those words like they don't sting. Her nonchalant air disturbs me. It's either she's the most well adjusted person on earth or she's lying about it.
I can still feel the shame, the disgust and the anger. I can still feel his hands on me. I can hear him grunting as he pushed into me. I can still feel his breath on my neck. I scrubbed myself raw after that. I rubbed and scrubbed until I had scratches and deep red marks all over my body. I can still remember his words about how I can't tell anyone because I'm just a slut, a whore and nobody will believe me anyway.
And I believed him. I believed that fucker. I believed that statement to be truth for the next ten years. I let him control my consciousness. There were so many attempts at self inflicted death. There were so many men in between. I hate what he did to me. I hate what I did to myself.
So, for her to speak of it as if it were a freaking punchline angers me. She has made the experience and the pain so fucking insignificant.
I'm not a whore. It's not my fault. I know that now, but that doesn't mean I'd like to talk about it or casually mention it over a crude humorous conversation. I don't care what she says, she's not part of the club.
