#1422
Original Story
I thought he loved me and cared about me but how could that be true? I’m was just meditating and trying to imagine my entire muscular system relaxing but it was brief and didn’t give me the relief I need then I thought about someone else I thought loved me and cared about me and he does but all I can see in him is what my ex did to me and in that moment I was saying all he did was use me for sex and that is how I was feeling. Earlier I was journaling and it came out for the first time I fell in love with a man that used me for sex and never cared about me and then while meditating it came up again but this time as my mind was saying this again I stopped seeing him and I saw my ex. It was like looking down a long hallway at my ex and seeing him for the first time in a while. Seeing what he did and I told myself it’s ok I noticed I was self reflecting and integrating and I said it’s ok. I heard a voice say he used me and I said I know and then a few moments later I’m here writing parts of my story to share without any real intention other than it’s a safe space for me to talk about this. My stomach feels swollen right now and my throat is bothersome, my right hand is sore, and my neck is tense. Feeling these things and I wonder is this how I felt when it happened? Did I freeze up or tense up? Did I yell for him to stop? What happened in the moments I can’t remember? I am not sure but I know how it felt like something heavy was on top of me and I couldn’t breathe and even if I didn’t say it out loud yell it my mind was saying get off of me and I was struggling. And the other guy is seeming to fade into the background and my ex is at the forefront with his condescending face looking down at me as if what he was doing was ok because it’s what he wanted although I had a headache. I wonder what was going through his mind during those moments and even now does he remember? Does he regret what he did? And then I remember all the times he didn’t speak to me which years later I learned was manipulation haunt the silent treatment to gain some sense of control over me. My lips are dry and my legs are itching and my head hurts. Things that were happening in that exact moment he was on top of me because I didn’t want to have sex but he wanted to and that’s all that matters right? Healing is strange because I can feel everything now that I couldn’t before and in this space it’s like I’m right there on the floor again his condescending face staring down at me as it always does and he is doing exactly what he said he would do if I didn’t have sex with him before he left for work which was rape me. Except to me it wasn’t rape it was normal and maybe I should’ve just said yes? I mean how would it have been any different. If I say yes I’m in control right and if I say no he is? It’s also strange how survival skills seem like you were being toxic or unhealthy except I’m here aren’t I? I made it this far by eventually saying yes instead of saying no and at least I then wanted I right? Now I’m thinking of course I am always asking others does what I’m saying make sense because I want to know that they understand so they can relate to what I’ve been through cause no one ever seemed to care when I said no or stop or help me.
A few weeks later
This is a poem I wrote about the emotional abuse during all this I went through and how it felt but to also find love again but it seems I can't have it, but if I had once surely I can have it again, so maybe some hope here. Love Lost My favorite flower, pink roses, he cut them down, Their sweet scent a phantom, a memory drowned. My favorite movie, Casper, a guess gone wrong, He left me in darkness, where I don't belong. My car, earned with sweat, now a source of his scorn, He complains I owe him, my independence torn. The battery died, no help from his hand, A stranger's kindness, in this desolate land. My favorite song, a melody's flight, He silences my voice, extinguishes the light, But a gentle soul once sang to me, A peaceful rhythm, calming my inner sea. Divorce papers served, a moment to breathe, He steals my laughter, and leaves me to grieve. No film for solace, no lamp's gentle glow, Only the chill of his calculated cruelty, the silence in heavy blows, The quiet violence tearing me whole. The cold seeps in, the heat turned away, He feigns forgetfulness, in his cruel game to play. My rose-red shirt, a symbol of grace, He rips it from my body, leaving an empty space, But a gentle soul once saw my grace, And knew the rose, though petals fell, would find its place. Butterflies flutter, in a hydrangea's embrace, He calls them ugly, and mocks my taste. Pizza I craved, but chocolate pie was his offer, Once again sweet treats and apologies, a heart-shaped lie, My needs unmet, I can no longer comprehend. A trip to the store, a manipulative plea, He yells in the car, inflicting pain on me. No dinner tonight, just a means to an end, A hollow promise, my hunger betrayed. S and J carved into wood, a symbol he claimed, Now just letters, a shattered work of art. A picnic table promise, broken and bare, Rustling of the trees echo the silence he created. Paint, a passion shared with small hands, A rock painted blue, a canvas for his glance, Her joyful steps, the paintbrush then flung, Tears in her eyes, as I stood nearby, "You ruin everything," his words hit me leaving a pink handprint on my cheek. But the gentle soul whispered, “may your colors bloom”, And in this light, the world became my canvas. Jelly beans, a false favorite he claims, My joy for purple and green, he disdains. My eyes, a mystery he fails to explore, His gaze, a reflection of something I despise. Words once flowed freely, in letters so long, Now silence descends, where stories belonged. Reading by incandescent light, the bed a sanctuary, no longer safe, My dreams and fantasies, he steals day by day. My sleep, a battlefield, my thoughts in disarray, My spirit diminished, my story untold. A yellow note, a hollow "I care," from him, His anger remains, a mirage beyond repair. Lost words scribbled in pencil, Tossed aside, like his hollow I care. But a gentle touch once sparked my hand, And my pen danced across the page. Dad, I whispered, lost and confused, a gentle soul I found, a true love I've lost. His light, a beacon, now turned to gray, and shadows of him who stole my day. The rain began, a mournful descent, washing over me, a message sent, Then a hand reached out and the words began to flow, A gentle souls warm touch, my writing bloomed, like roses from winter's hold, Orange and gold sunsets, colors danced on the canvas, But his heart held a frost, a love I couldn't keep, Now the ink runs like tears, and my sorrow runs deep, The gentle souls’ eyes, a midnight sky, where starlight would gleam, Then the stars went dim and the moon turned cold, a story he'd foretold. The birds sing of freedom, a future unknown, Will I find my way back to the light shone, or forever be alone?