*Trigger warning- swearing*
Oh how real that is right now.. I didn’t know it was possible to be broken. Not really. I said the words, but I never understood. I had learned to protect myself. Protected by the pretense, by the lies, by the mask.
I didn’t know, I really didn’t know that I could be broken, not that way, not like that.
I see it now, I remember. I feel it. Broken. Alone. Fucking alone.
Where were you? Anyone at all? What is wrong with people? What is wrong with this world, that a child would choose abuse so they didn’t have to be alone?
Unconditional love, I know all about that. I have felt it for so many. Too many. For the wrong people, the wrong person. Admitting I needed him, loved him and relied on him has thrown me into turmoil. Shame, regret, and pain. Oh, so much pain.
I am back to pretending- trying to pretend to myself, too. Pretending it’s OK. Pretending that I am OK. The smile, the laugh, so you can’t see me, so you don’t know what I hide beneath.
I am not OK, I was broken. Broken by him, by them. By the abuse, the loneliness, the emptiness, the fear and the fucking awful rejection. That was not OK and I am not OK right now.
My throat is raw and I feel full. Full of what I know, full of what I have seen. Full of years of unspilled tears. Is this what it is to feel? If it is, I want none of it.
I am desperate. Desperate for comfort, desperate for peace, just desperate.
Hold me in your heart, love me, tell me it will be OK, tell me it won’t ever be that way again. Tell me I didn’t deserve it, that I was always worth more than that, even back then. Especially back then. A child, an innocent.
Needy. I hate being needy. It’s not me. I am tough, I am strong. I know better than to need, don’t I?!
I didn’t mean for it to happen, I didn’t mean to be involved. I didn’t want what he did, what it caused. I didn’t want to be alone. I was left all alone.
Rape, rather than be alone. How fucked up is that? I didn’t want it, I swear, believe me? I didn’t want to be alone anymore. I couldn’t be alone, not with that. What was I to do? What did I know?
How was that my life? How could I have been that person?
So I ask you, anyone out there reading, don’t hate me and please, Oh God, please, don’t fucking leave me. I was let down, I was broken, don’t you do it, don’t you dare, don’t you let me down too… ‘cos I deserve better than I had back then.