I've typed and re-typed, hoping to convey every thought that has troubled me in regards to you, this relationship and myself. I have no idea where to begin.
I have a voice, I do, I think. It just decides to sleep when you're near. Who the fuck knows, but really that is a silly statement because I certainly do. There are so many things I want to say, everything is getting jumbled. It's exactly 2:25am and I'm tired but if I don't do this now I never will and then I'll likely choose to end up where I began: shoving everything down and letting it explode later. Right now I'm just trying to make sense of my own head, attempting to find a way to be ok with what is occuring to my body and the emotions being created from being with you and the stupid fucking pill. Mark I care so much about you, I honestly do love you and the fact that you may feel the same way, though slightly terrifying, makes me really happy. I'm aware that everything falls back to me, my own insecurities and the feeble attempts I've made at trying to conquer the fear that so strongly directs my actions. It's a slow process.
First and foremost, March 21 2010. You've already heard the story; no need to repeat myself. Most, if not all the fear that inhabits my body stems from this night. Mark, never have I felt the true power of what the simple action of a human could do, or lackthereof. At this point in time the rape is not what causes me distress but the fact that I was left in the dirt because of an action imposed onto me. I trusted someone who told me that they cared and would be there, only to be kicked when I was already down. It took almost a year to get up and I honestly don't know if I'll be able to stand up if a second round occured. This is the fear that creates my inabilty to reach for your hand, the fear to trust honest words. I'm aware that everything you've said to me has been formed out of complete sincerity but I'm scared so I formulate ways to convert those words and gestures into excuses to push you away. But I don't want to push you away, I'm tired of having only my own shoulders to cry on and I'm tired of hesitating. But everything is still so fucking scary. Having realized my own feelings about you so quickly is so terrifying, I'm afriad of my own love, afraid that perhaps it's not enough or far too much. I've been in love only once, it took me two years to fully realize my feelings but with you it occured within two months, quite possibly less. Somedays I feel as though I'm in a korean drama, two broken hearted highschool classmates meet and fall in love. Awwwwweee. Not.
AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH. This is all so frustrating! But I am a bit calmer now. It is now 3:09am. I'm not going to edit any of this because I know I will just delete it and then not talk to you for a week because that is the only way I know how to handle my emotions without having a complete breakdown.
Being with you makes me really happy. No. Scratch that. The only person who can make me happy is me, I believe that other people contribute to it and the fact I'm willing to let you aid in my well-being is a big step for me.
Although the previous paragraphs are abit more light hearted after finally reaching some conclusion (maybe? I was just blabbering at some point there) there is something that has been haunting me for quite sometime. Whenever I think about it I cry because it's a sentence I never thought I would hear, especially from you. Knowing your memory you probably don't remember and I know what I heard, i remember the exact tone of your voice and where our bodies laid almost the exat moment you said it. I don't want to keep typing but i have to because im going to die if i dont.
why didn't you do anything?
everytime i see that sentence, i die, piece by piece a portion of me just wants to end everything. The night I drove drunk to your place, talking to you in bed, for some reason i was replaying to you about being held down by my neck. Maybe saying this was your way of getting me to shutup or you said it just because. regardless, I'm tired of making excuses to myself of what reason you may have but it hurt, it really fucking hurts. 'why didn't you do anything' was something i battled with for so long last year. This small little sentence makes me want to die. it tells me that since i didn't try to stop him the entire incident was my own fault and therefore i deserved it. it was not sexual assualt, i'm clearly just another sentive girl who doesnt want to admit they lost their virginity to a d-bag. maybe if i had done something the assualt wouldn't have occured -- or could have been worse. i'm lucky i only ended up with bruises. for the longest time i was disgusted with my own body, ashamed to look in the mirror, afraid of the memories that came with it. i love/hate that you enjoy my neck so much. there used to be a bruise from his middle finger on the left side of my neck and a pressure point from his palm. i pancaked my neck and collar area with makeupo afterwards. I didnt shed a single tear that entire night. i guess that means i'm far braver than i give myself credit for. i was far too angry to cry. while held down I laughed in his face, chuckled that i couldn't feel a goddamn thing. the only moment in that entire night when i had any control of the situation was when he said, 'why' i continued to laugh, i dont think i've ever sounded so evil, so inhuman but i wasnt really much of a human at that point. just a piece of meat with a hole. i can recall that entire day so vivdily. the assault, catching the train at 6am, going to work at safeway, meeting up with riley for a date and then ending the night with, "I need to tell you something, I'm not a virgin anymore ..." but sexual assault and sex are two different things. this all happened in one day, I didnt want to believe i had just been raped, it was 'sex' and i was clearly a whore for cheating. and the boy who said he 'really cared' about me clearly didn't like me as much as he had initially believed. i trusted him, i really really trusted him.
i dont cry anymore when i think about the actions of these two men. i cry when i think i cant make you as happy as you really could be or are deserving of. what destroyed me the most about falling in love for the first time was realizing that i did not have the capabilty to give the happiness that the person i truly cared for was deserving of, at least not in a romantic sense. i realized my role in their life was to be their friend, it was hard to accept but something i still wanted to do regardless. it's something i always think about, whether the interractions i have with others, the friendships ive created, does it contribute to their happiness as fully as it could? this simple concept of happiness, is, for me, the hardest to accept. I want to so badly allow others and aid in creating and developing the happiness they so rightly deserve but i am far to afraid to accept it's presence. and once again fear steps in. i dont know, i'm just blabbering, getting thoughts out. its now 4:10am and i have work in five hours. that's ok.
i love you mark.
thank you for believing in me. your the first boy who has ever called me beautiful. or sexy. or said 'iloveyou' holy fuck you are terrifying but that is probably what gravitates me towards you. because i am pretty terrifying myself. we can be terrifying together. and facebook is evil, so i'm going to deactivate mine for abit, just so you're aware that i'm not breaking up with you or about to commit suicide. since being with you its been the first time in a long while since i havent thought of death every time i wake up. its refreshing.
you are refreshing.
luv purple turnip.
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