when I left home, I thought I could leave every dirty footprint across every street in my neighborhood, and leave every trace of my existence so that I could create a new one. I wanted a world where he hadn’t touched me, or a world in which I could open my eyes every morning and want to experience every minute of it awake.
I dont remember the last time anyone I loved ever truly loved me back. Sometimes I wonder if this is my reality, because to me it feels concrete. I feel that you get to close, and you notice that my eyes dont sparkle the same like others, and you leave. Or you take me for a child because I too want to leave myself at times. Maybe distance is my manifestation because I dont want to hurt you, or anyone for that matter.
I dont think sensitive is the word to describe myself, I wish you could see through my eyes how I see the world-so that you could understand why I can spot every beautiful flower around me, yet notice everything that died surrounding it. I wish you could understand that every tear that falls I feel it, and every lie I sense it. I could dance to your music for hours, and I can enjoy the sun-but I will always be waiting for the sun to go down.
I can feel your distance
Sometimes I wonder why I let a stranger hold me- just to disappear. I got to know you, and I got to forget you. strangely, it was the only way I could feel love for a while, because you could see every scar on my body yet never notice the tears falling from my eyes, and we never had to talk about it. It was my choice this time, I wanted it,
every word that spills out of me is nothing but a mere cry for change, but change cannot happen where no matter who I meet, or who I love leaves. I understand that at times I get silent, or form words together that don’t make sense. But I just want for once to be seen without having to explain why I wasn’t ready to keep looking at the same streets through my neighborhood or why my shoes were dirty.
I used to stay awake to thought of you finally remembering that I exist. That you would wake up, hug me, and tell me that it will all be okay. A therapist asked me a very basic question yesterday- How come I am only now coming for help? I looked at him speechless. Because the post trauma of my rape never left, and I have spent years battling it alone, and to me, help was never an option.
I guess it was the new found independence after my body was taken from me. I began to work like crazy, I pushed everything and everyone away. But it was also the pain of admitting it to others. That yes, I got raped. Till this day I am not ready to admit it, but the waves of the flashbacks that come upon me become real and realer. There is no escaping this alone.
Ever since the month of June, I haven’t slept the same. Or maybe at the age of 13 when my best guy friend sexually assaulted me- it all began. But either way, it all falls upon the same articles, the same stories, because in my mind-it still feels blurry.
No one prepares you for this moment. But how could they? This shouldn’t happen. If a person screams ‘no’ loud enough, or their faces becomes expressionless, its no hint, no riddle. Its exactly what it is, and for the other person to ignore it-they are inhumane. There is no sympathy for a rapist-But anyone can be a rapist, even the ones you thought you trusted the most.
I used to cry on guys shoulders without them noticing. You see for a while I couldn’t even hug my only family, let alone let anyone touch me. But than, all I could do was let everyone in. Because in my head, it did not matter anymore. The meaning of the word ‘No’ had no protection over me, and so if I let it happen, than it was it was on my hands. My cold, shaking hands.
When I get to the point where I actually fall in love with someone, it is the most beautiful feeling in the world. Because just for a little while, my heart feels something other than emptiness or trauma. My flashbacks are muted by their presence, and I can breathe. So when they leave- It is more than the attachment that gets taken apart, its the peace that I so desperately needed. However loving others is all I know.
People are quick to judge about others who are healing from rape. Because no one knows about the after. Even those who are healing from rape, dont understand it, and begin to shame themselves. You see, in the eyes of the ignorant- after someone gets raped, they are scared and will never touch a human being again. But the reality of it all, is that this statement is false-ignorant for that matter. A person who gets raped most of the time will live life on survival. Their body becomes aware of every movement, every sound, every touch. Perspective says that in the eyes of one who got raped- they will say yes every time, because saying no will just lead to another rape.
All this time, my open wounds tried to bandage itself. It tried to hide its open vulnerability, but nothing would fulfill it. Maybe someone would eventually come and shield it, but it was always temporary. Sometimes I feel like I live a lie, because I am used to hiding within my bandages. But I am here, I promise you. Look deeper, see me.
No one will prepare you for the day when you get raped, and all you could do is comfort your rapist that its okay, that you are okay. That you let him walk you home, and you hug him goodbye, to then later talking about what just happened with your closest friends, and realizing
that you have been raped.
That is the power of the mind. Fight or flight takes action, and as your mind shields you from his hands pulling you down on him, you only then realize that fighting back feels nonetheless impossible. From that day on, I could not feel a damn thing. I could not feel my legs, I could not look in the mirror, I couldn’t take a shower. Its living but feeling dead at the same time. Trying to take back every control of your life, but cant be hugged by your family and closest friends. That is the most inhumane part about being raped. Is that even though they keep you alive, they kill everything else inside of you. And when you come back home, and you cant even hug your parents, you realize that your body no longer trusts anything or anyone.
That is the first stage at least. Because eventually, you begin to let things in too easily. You lose control even more in the hopes to gain it back. You try to find it with every walking thing, you try to feel something, but when you go back home, you still cannot look in the mirror. You do not see yourself. The inner child in you has vanished, and all you are left is with the thought that he is still inside of you.
I looked for comfort, yet I couldn’t let any of it in. But what is strange, is that after my rape, I loved more than I ever had. I started to absorb others emotions that were around me. I could feel every heartbeat of others, I could feel every thought that were going through peoples head. Almost felt like a super power. Knowing that someone would feel something, and I could feel it as well. Its a strange concept, but I became all the love that I wanted in return, but all I got was unavailable men, that were interested in me but were not ready for anything more.
I never looked for myself in men, but I tried to find my control back in them. Because a man took it away from me, A man used his strength against me, so I would look for it back with others.
No one tells you that after you get raped, you can either remain within yourself your whole life, or you lose your control all the way, and you lose sight of your dignity, your self control. Is my head still in flight? The world feels like a game of survival, and I am fighting every day to keep myself alive.
“So can you stay the night?”
No. Because when the morning will come, I will have to leave. Because you are not mine. Because when the morning comes I will say bye to you, and I wont hear or see you for months after. I am not built for that. I do not belong in such a open void. Where I have to question your presence. Because I have no control over it, I have no comfort in any of it.
I dont remember the day where I would grow out of being a kid.
I dont remember my last ignorant laugh, or my innocence for that matter.
You look at me today, and what do you see?
Do you notice my empty stares, my bruised heart? Do you see my stiffness, my obsessions. Do you notice that my heart skips a beat sometimes. What do you see when you look at me?
What can I say right? That everyone has their fuck ups, everyone has their darkness. But not at an age where you cant even drive a car, or drink for that matter. I had a whole childhood, and I could not live within it.
Maybe its right in this moment that I start telling the story of how my best guy friend sexually assaulted me at the age of 13
or how another guy tried to aggressively rape me at the age of 14
My body was never mine. It has felt like its been taken away from me, way before it could fully develop. So in what world could I keep living as a child?
Its hard to live life without ignorance. Because when you see the truth, the world begins to seem dull. There is nothing that seems of joy, and every day seems like a chore. Waking up, eating breakfast, going to work, trying to forget the way his hands were holding you down- and being awake all night. And what is even worse, is that you are aware of everything. You are aware of the solutions, you are aware of how you are effecting your surroundings, but you cannot do anything about it. Because when the trauma hits, your body loses control all over again.
I tend to zone out most of the time. Daydreaming in details, to where it almost feels real. Maybe that’s why I love writing so much. Because I can let out every thought, without having to yell it. Without having to hear my voice crack while it accompanies my tears. Because for once I can fully say my truth.
I do not know how you see me. Maybe you think I am the biggest bitch in the world, maybe you think that I am cold, or you think I am a good soul. But all I want to know is where did my childhood go? Where I learned to take life easier, where I wasn’t so harsh on myself. Maybe then I would stop trying to fit myself into places I do not belong, and stop trying to prove my worth. But every wakening hour I have, all I can think about is them. The monsters, the soul suckers.
It’s 13:25 in this small little coffee shop, and I am sitting alone. A table that must fill two but accompanied by my lonely presence. I am not here to bull shit you. Not here to lie to you about how you must love your company always. That is in fact not a reality, it is not a truth. You do not always have to enjoy your own presence. Sometimes you want the empty chair to be filled, and your thoughts to be heard. I guess that’s what I am doing now in a sense. Letting the internet enter my mind. You don’t know me, but I let you into my world of heartbreak.
May I take this chair?- says stranger.
And I replied with: of course you can. Because I knew that, that chair will not be filled. I was not expecting anyone.
I guess me and you are not strangers. Who ever reads ‘perspective’. I only post on here when I am trying to get ahold of myself, which is my most vulnerable time. And this time, I am not here to write any type of poetry, or story. I’m here to talk to you, like I would in a coffee shop.
Do you know the true pain of being an overthinker, a person who feels more than a person of logic? Is that no matter where you go, who you meet, you get attached. You try to hold on to everything, because the world seems to take everything good from you every time. But it doesn’t matter how tightly you grasp onto something, it leaves, disappears. So, you stick to something temporarily. Not because you are lowering your standards, but because when it’s temporary, the world can’t touch it. It cannot take something that neither is good nor bad.
My body has been fighting a sickness for the past two weeks. Physically, made me weak. Can’t walk for more than ten minutes without my legs giving out, and my face wears thin. And mentally, the sickness never left.
You know what’s on my mind?
Too fucking much.
What if today the world will love me, what if the world will be good to me. What if the world will let me take something, without having to grasp so tightly on it. What if the world will let me in?
So stranger… what do you know about me now? What do you see? A girl who’s hurt, or a girl who’s tired of all the bullshit?
*****
I think a lot about my fears. I ask him the question-he replies and asks me back. And I give the most generic answer. I am scared of being alone. But in reality, it’s a fear of water.
I saw myself fall so deeply into him, and he let me fall into his arms. But the water began to feel colder his arms let me go. I haven't seen him since.
The water itself does not scare me. I dont care if its cold or warm, or what is in the water matter of fact. Its that you can swim so deeply, and come out of it alone. You never forget how deeply you have swam, but you feel the depth of it every time.
I still feel it all.
I think about what you are thinking about, I wonder into all the possible reasons why you up and left, and I think about all the different ways I can begin to accept it.
There is a time where you have to let go of what you hope to be true, because it is not reality anymore. Its not the now, it is the was.
You get up and leave. You too have felt the need to leave. And I stay here, sitting in this coffee shop, alone.
I don’t think that you are exhausted because he left you. Because he did not want you anymore. That he took you out, and invested time in you, just to leave you stranded in your own thoughts. You’re exhausted because it’s the same story every time, different person, same storyline. And every time you say that he is different, you say that he will be the one who will save you. Right? But then, he forgets you, like everyone else, and you are exhausted.
When you think you have a grasp on a situation, never get too comfortable.
Sounds simple. But what do you do when your heart is so big that it never learns. You do not want to be so closed off, but you also don’t want to open your heart too much to where it can get hurt. The art of being forgotten is that you are the one that needs to be saved, and instead you can’t let go. Because you believed him.
When he leaves
Three different shots, and a whole bottle of wine and still no reply. Maybe his phone died, maybe he lost his phone. It doesn’t sound reasonable to jump to such conclusions so quickly. He is not like anyone you have ever met. He showed up on time, he held your hand, he took you out. It was all so very passionate. So, you take another shot, and let the night play out. But then a week goes by. 0 messages from him, and you start to understand that he is becoming distant. It is okay if you try to convince yourself that you will be fine. Your heart becomes a bit heavy, but you continue your days as normal, just with a little less color.
Maybe you even start to shed a tear, but you do not know what has been waiting for you at night. The night that once filled with many lights, has become even duller than the daytime. So, you cry and cry, and cry.
You realize that you cannot stay in denial, that he is forgetting you, leaving you behind.
So, you text him- and erase, and text him, and erase. Maybe you will decide to actually send it, but you realize that there is a distance and a wall that is being built, and you have no intention of breaking it.
***
When its two am
You put on your favorite dress. You do not wear it out. In fact, it’s been living in your closet; a life of nothingness. But that night, it lived. You put it on, and it hugged every inch of your body, and you felt something. You know for the time being you will not wear it anywhere. But you put some music on, and dance to it. You live a dull life, but that dress holds you in place.
When it’s two am, your heart feels the most pain. The world becomes quiet, but your thoughts pound like a heartbeat. Why did he leave, where did he go, why did he leave, where did he go?
A constant.
Because the consistency of him is no longer real. Its what was once. But tonight, it’s just another story, another pain, another tear. Your dress becomes spotted with tears, you immediately take it off. You are not a mess, you are just heartbroken, and it’s okay.
When he forgets about you, you need to remember yourself.
in the distance, all you could see is the face of a girl who has lost everything its a dark night, a dark foggy night to be exact or at least for her. You wonder why she walks around so late at night, what goes on in her head at this time?
as a spiritual being, I feel the presence of every soul around me I sound like I’m some type of wizard, but the truth is that I have had too much time to get in touch with my feelings. It is a good and bad thing to have such ability to fully grasp the energy of others in your soul, and see what they see through their lens. In some ways, it helps me set myself apart from others. I may not be part of what society deems normal, but in other ways I call it my super power. If I can describe my soul, I would say its a pretty sad soul. This however does not mean that I am not happy, but my soul just requires a little bit more work to maintain a happy life. its a conflicting world when you, yourself are a happy a person but your soul isn’t. its a constant war between which world will win, its the confusing appearance of a sad face on a happy person.
she walks with her headphones in, I wonder what shes listening to i walk up to her, and ask her if shes okay. she gives me a quick smile and says “im more than okay, im collecting my energy right now” such a beautiful thing that she can enjoy the peace of her own silince such a beautiful thing that while she walks she looks at the world around her and shes not tied to her phone
I feel like I scare people away when they see how much i love my alone time sometimes it shows off when I am in a group of people I tend to zone out when you are so used to being alone, your thoughts tend to run through your mind all day constant brain energy never stops, and once you obtain it, you dont want it to leave. an overthinker will not stop thinking until there is an answer, therefore curiosity will drive not only the discipline that one can have, but ones mental resilience. I am always with my headphones in the world has disappointed me too many times, and all I want to do is listen to the voices that I chose. when my headphones are in, every problem, every thought is quiet and all I focus on is the song. music did not only save my life, but it aided me in time when all I had was isolation
All I could do is hold her I looked into her eyes and it still sparkled I could see on her face years worth of pain, but she is standing in front of me smiling and she has the biggest smile in the world. How can someone so sad, also be the happiest person in the world? we sit down on a bench that sits next to a park. It is two am, the night sky shines with stars, a yellow streetlight beams across her face. I see a tear slowly trickling down her face, the way she sits on this bench looks like she has been here for years. she has learned to adjust to the comfort of a wooden seat, with one leg on the bench, and the other flat on the floor. she gives me her headphone and tells me to listen,
part of a soul who feels so sad, it almost feels like it craves love more than others. passion pumps my blood, but love drives me. I may never understand my thoughts fully, I understand that the love that I can give to the world is my purpose, my mission.
but this is where everything begins to feel foggy.
I want to love, but everyone leaves.
I think I have come to terms with it though. if you want to leave, leave. but I also tend to run away, it is all I know.
isolation is the biggest form of comfort that I have found. You cannot get hurt if you disconnect from everyone, no one can hurt you if you do not let them. But then there is no one to love, there is no one to hold.
the antagonist in my story is myself. No one can hurt you as much as you can hurt yourself
I take the earbud out of my ear, and she looks at me waiting for a reaction. It is almost as if its her first time sharing such information about her soul to anyone. She almost looks frightened, scared. But I can tell that the weight on her back is starting to release. She switches positions on the bench, and we both sit in silence.
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