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.