i... it's samhain... my new year... and... it's time for me to do something that *should* have been done a long ago.... but until now i *could not do* for i lacked the strength... please bear with me, and with my broken writing, as i do this thing i so badly need to...


YOU. you haunted my life and dogged my footsteps a better *third* of my existence. wherever you are--and i'd be truly and honestly shocked if you're not in jail, for rape, or assault or some other sex crime. i honestly would be shocked. because that's who and what you are... but you, wherever you are, it ends tonight. my life is *mine* once more... you are a thing of past. it is time for *my* future. my life.

i'm sitting here now, listening to the rose, my life in song form. (funny, i *never* heard that song until after you changed schools. NEVER) i'm sitting here talking to my beloved, the one who healed me from the damage you've done, the one who's let me go *on* from what you were. (funny, you said you were the "only one", the "right one". you tried to feed me the term soulmate. a word whose very *existence* i did not believe until a year ago. long after you'd left.

that's the funny thing. If i tried to talk to you about this, today... you'd probably have forgotten. i doubt you remember even my name. certainly not my face, nor anything true about me. because you never *knew* me. and if you did remember, you'd deny responsibility. you'd say "we were young". that you were "just teasing". that you had "no idea" the effects of what you were doing. that it wasn't your fault. but you knew. OH you knew. even then, you were a bully.

you never touched my body, because i defended it with binders and tennis rackets. and i'm not sure you honestly wanted to that much. you much preferred violate my mind. and it worked. i was afraid of a relationship. i was more afraid of the words i love you than of anything else in my entire existence. and not that your work didn't *extend* to my body as well. i spent years fearing touch. any touch. even a hug from my best friend unnerved me. i spent years *refusing* to walk on the left side of anyone. i bet you didn't know that. but i *had* to have my right hand free and available to move and swing if anyone dare attack me. i could not be caught defenseless. you wanted to break things. well you got what you wanted.

it started early. all too early. much before i knew how to defend. the first year, you mostly let me live normally. But second grade, *second grade* you started. you saw i was lost. confused. weak. perfect prey for you. It was just incessant teasing at first, harassing "you're not good enough" "everyone hates you" that everything i did was wrong. setting the world against me. yourself included. you pushed me further towards the fringes than i would have ever wandered on my own. wolf like you steered me away from my herd, where i was vulnerable. you did this for years.

then you started playing a new game. Tried to convince me that maybe you could "protect" me from that world i believed hated me, was against me. That you *had* spent those years "protecting" me, i just didn't know it. That i OWED you for that. "hold my hand, please? come on... that's all i want, promise" (fourth grade. fourth grade!) then "come on... just *one* kiss. just one kiss, then i'll go away and leave you alone. forever. i promise". you tempted me that i could be rid of you so easily. but on some level i knew you lied. that one kiss would be 'one more' and 'one more'. i could not use this out.

Later still "why not? i love you! i love you! why do you hate me, why won't you kiss me?]" (because i find you vile and hate you with my entire being? and guess what... you were the first person i ever hated. you professed love and taught me hate. happy?)

Why did you tell me your young-boy fantasies? that in your fifth-grade way you wanted an island, you owned... just stay there, play your Nintendo all day... and have beautiful naked women bring you food and drink at your whim? why did you tell me you wanted me to be one of those women? you *knew* i hated my body. that my looks were my weakness. oh, that's right... you knew that that *was* my weakness... which is why you drove right at it. you spent the entire six years i knew you doing that... finding where i hurt easiest, and attacking the weakest bits so you could feast.

You got no better the rest of the time i knew you. You tried to touch me, hug me, hold me, any physical response from me you wanted. All i could do was flinch away from your touch. i *could* not bear it. And you felt that... you felt the pulling away, and drove closer. You came, open armed, smiling professing "love"... while your aura radiated nothing but a predator's hungry wolfish hunting-vibe.

Then you left, went somewhere for high school that you could survive, it was "too hard" here. You promised you loved me, you'd stay in touch. Not that i cared. but like everything else you ever did, that too was a lie. you left and i never heard from you again. i'm sure you don't, now, even remember my name. The wolf never remembers the face of the deer he slaughters. same with you.



i feared love, i feared closeness, i feared touch, i feared my body i hated my body because of the way you had leered over it, i feared everything that reminded me of you. and that was everything. Because you spent six years molding my life. And knowing you'd damaged all you can, wandered off for new sport while the pieces lay there and writhed.

This year, i have found peace. healing. joy. love. even my soulmate. it's *my* life for the first time ever. MY life to do with as i alone wish. You are only a past now, a shade a shadow.

you did shape, importantly, who i am now. you taught me lessons i *needed* to learn. you taught me what life and love were *not*. you taught me defenses. you taught me wariness. These have served me well. And i thank you for this. But the learning is over. it's time now for the *being*.

and that part...
     well, that part is my future...
         and that... doesn't involve you at all...

you are dead to me now... rest in peace.

Log in or register to write something here or to contact authors.