Bodies of Water

Well, guess who argued with me again.

Surprisingly, I found something out about myself and him.
One, I didn't argue with him, I talked to him and I emphasized certain words, but as I was typing it all out, the voice in my head was in control and calm. It wasn't yelling at him. She wasn't even crying from the overwhelming pressure. No, it was like a robot almost.
Two, he gets very defensive, doesn't let me get a word in, and then stops it to a halt completely. My guess is that he never fought with someone all the way through. He has never been in such a fight where the raging storm becomes a calm sea. Instead, the raging storm just moves and sulks for a bit while the sea just waits for him.

If you guessed it, I am the sea, always waiting for the clouds to become the shining sun again.

And that's what he is in my life, the shining sun.

But I've seen a pattern every time we fight. I fight about the present, then he brings up the past, and then he gets worse, and then just cuts me off.

I have never brought up the past so many as he would. I would bring it up, if it was necessary, but not as a debatable reason to argue. Which I never understand. He is fragile, I don't mean as an insult, but he is quite stubborn.

He is hurt by my past, but doesn't seem to remember when he slips up and makes mistakes.
He is only putting me down and blaming me when we argue, not trying to solve it.

To which that is my job. Trying to fix it.


A year ago, I would've been on my knees crying my eyes out begging him to talk to me.
But now that I know inside his head a bit, I just have my own method of handling him, and he is quite the handful for my tiny hands.

First, I try my everything to try and get him to talk, if he doesn't I stop. Then I will write it out instead, because he refuses to listen to my voice. After that, if he still doesn't contact me within five minutes max, I turn everything off. Finally, I go for a brief walk to water or garden. Water because I live near a river while I am abroad or the garden when I am back home.


Usually after all the commotion, I wait until he contacts me. Let me tell you, he went for a full week. He could probably go longer, I bet. I only have three weeks left. 21 days. 504 hours.
That is how long I am still apart from him.

Even if he does last that long....he told me once, he might just end it with me.
I wouldn't be surprised if he did.
But then he would always say that he was stupid and that he would never break up.

If that's the case, I'm afraid I won't ever know what is true coming out of his mouth anymore. For a while, he hasn't said "I love you." to me on his own or first. Usually I say it, but I get "okay" as a response.

What happened?
Did he really stop loving me?

You know, the thing that is probably worse than death for me is if he did stop loving me.

I went to the water to look for answers and I got them. Here I am typing my heart on this screen waiting for people to read. If there is anyone to read it.

My answer? The one that the water told me?

It was to step away for a bit because my life is getting too overwhelmed. My head isn't focused on the things that need to be focused, because it is focused all on him.

Why is he the best and worst thing that happened to me?
More so, why is he the only one I want to be with?

Is there something wrong with my heart, or did it choose to be with him too early?







Peace

Who Talks First

The question you might ask yourself after a fight or something came up between you and your partner is..."Who is going to break the silence and talk first?"

Normally, in my shoes, I always talk first.

I'm going to try and stay quiet until he realizes I'm not playing around and that I want him to confess to what he said.

Normally people fight about stupid things, but this??? This was different.

He brought up an awful experience I had when I was abroad in London. When it happened I told him because I was scared and horrified that it happened to me.

Me!! I'm the most cautious, most safe, and most aware person.

But I am not strong. No, that is a huge understatement.
I am not strong in my arms, but my legs can power windmills.

THE FOLLOWING IS ABOUT MY SEXUAL ASSAULT, SO IF YOU CAN'T HANDLE THIS, THEN GO TO THE VERY BOTTOM. THANK YOU.

I was trapped against a wall and a stranger. My hands and arms were being held by this stranger.

I froze.

I thought, "I've seen this many times in shows!! Why am I not moving??"

Then I had to get out of my head and try to move. I knew that if I just did nothing, my night would've been much worse. I know that the moment was probably less than 5 minutes, but it seemed like forever.

To the music, I turned around and escaped from the stranger. I don't know how the hell I did it, but I was so ready to leave.

During the time he had me, things happened that I never want to share, mainly because it was so terrifying.

When I got away, I went into the stairwell that lead outside and I sat on a step and started crying.

I got away.

That was repeating over and over in my head. Yes, I did get away, but not without bruises on my neck and my body feeling dirty. I felt numb from being shocked by what happened. I couldn't believe something like that just happened to me.

When I got back home for the summer in the US, I felt nervous to get kissed by my boyfriend. When he did kiss me, I had to stop. I did a few times and I looked away. The memory was so fresh I couldn't close my eyes without being back there in London at that club. It was such an awful experience that whenever I got intimate with my boyfriend, I had to immediately stop. Or I just tried to let it happen so it could distract me.

Every night that I went home, I took a shower. I just stood there trying to forget, trying to wash off the strangers touch, and trying to get past of what happened.

To this day, I'm still a little hesitant with my boyfriend. Not because I'm scared of him, but because I'm scared of what the memory might do to my mind. I don't want to feel alone in this and I want to be loved, but after something like that....it's hard.

ENDING

It has been a year since it happened and I still haven't told my mom or my sister. Only because I don't know how they will react. I don't know what questions might pop up and I don't know what they will do with the information.

I'm scared and I can feel that I'm not the same person.
It sucks guys, but it's what I have to live with.


Peace and Love to everyone.