4 years ago

Everything about the words on this page will be hard to write. Even as I do I can feel the butterflies trying to escape the volcano that is my stomach. The words are full of guilt and regret and I would like to warn anyone to stop reading this post due to a few curse words and its inappropriate (for my blog) content.

First, I would like to tell my husband how much I love him and how grateful I am to have someone amazing to share my life with. If you found yourself here, this is where you will want to stop reading. To my mom and dad, I am so very sorry I never told you this, I never gave you the chance to help me through this. Like most things that happen to me, I tend to swallow it whole and let my body absorb it…so as to not affect the ones I love around me. So I understand if you would like to stop reading here.

But this incident… It keeps coming back to haunt me. It keeps eating at me. It gave birth to my biggest regret…not giving you the opportunity to support me. At the time I believed and still do there was nothing you could do to prevent it and nothing you could do to fix it. Seeing you hurt for me…well that haunts me. My councilor told me that part of accepting what happened and moving on is to be able to tell you/people about it…to trust that you can feel the feelings and be ok. Things happened the way they did and that is something I will have to accept.

Why am I doing this publicly??? Because the DP Challenge (devil) made me do it. I am compelled (obsessed) about getting it out in the open. I am an open book…always have been and when I get the nerve to do something I do it big….so here it is.

I am also blogging this because I am hoping to share feelings and insights as I learn about them with those in similar situations. I hope in some way it will help me heal the guilt I feel for so many things. I will write about the things I learn later but this is about letting the skeleton out so I can bury him. What would I change if I could go back in time…easy…the whole night. Would I tell my parents and deal with him differently? I can’t say and I won’t even try to imagine because it did happen and I finally realized…history is never over.

This is a poem about my date rape nearly 24 years ago:

Your kind of love
Ended trust for me
Shattered it into
A sea of burnt out stars

You romanced me
Said I was beautiful
You loved my smile
Loved swimming in my eyes

I wanted the words you offered
Craved them in fact
They quenched that thirst
Born of young desire

Our first date
You didn’t touch me
You made me a picnic lunch
And opened the door for me

I was intoxicated, drunk
On feelings I rarely had
Butterflies swarmed
In the daydreams I had

The phone call came
You wanted to see me again
I felt like a clown
With my unending grin

We drove to the lake
Parked in fact
We talked a bit
A very little bit

Like in the movies
You reached for my face
Put your lips on mine
My knees went weak

So sweet at first
And the kiss deepened
Our tongues dance
Our hands explored

Your hands began feeling more
Places my hands rarely explored
New feelings surging wild
Fighting the fear that began to rise

Guiding my hands
You asked for things
The length of you
Hard behind your jeans

I started to worry about our pace
Your hands were bold
Out of bounds and in my space
Fingers strong, breath hard

Stop…..please I need to think
He scurried over on top of me
Kissed my neck whispering
It’s ok we’ll just kiss, as his hands

His hands start undressing me
I hold my jeans and said not yet
He said ok…you’re just so sexy
His mouth continues on my neck

So confused at how I felt
Wanting more but needing control
My hands had stopped
As he pulled a nipple from my bra

His face buried in my breasts
He undid his pants surprising me
Panic began to rise in me
As his hands reached for me

I just want to feel naked with you
I promise I won’t fuck you
I conceded my jeans as he felt

He pressed his dick against me
Once again panic surged through me
I stopped and pushed his shoulders
No!!! Seriously…I’m not ready for this

God you’re such a tease
A fucking bitch, my mind went numb
My hands restrained above my head
As he entered me, taking my virginity

He came on his shirt when he was done
Pulled up his pants and got off of me
He realized I was crying
What’s wrong? Shit happens!

I drove home……….crying
Vision blurred hoping to die
It was my fault, my choices
That led me to this night

I wanted love, the passion
The heated desire
But there was also no respect
Not from him not for myself

It wasn’t right, he was right
It was my fault he got so hot
I lead him on and deserved
What I got…..

I decided to never think of it again
To leave it boxed up in the attic of my mind
To take the blame and the shame
And take it as a lesson learned

It wasn’t until later, much later
I stopped blaming myself
It wasn’t until later, much later
I realized the scars it had left




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