Then it begins.

My vision blurring of what’s dangerous and what’s safe.

That depressing state where nothing is fun.

All because he caught me when I was drunk.

He was drinking to, but he’s 37 and I’m 16.

Everyday before it, I was finally happy and dancing and now I don’t wanna leave a car when I have to go out.

I wanna curl into a ball, cry about the small comments and the physical stuff that happened between us because of him, and hopefully heal without it ever getting out to anyone else.

I thought of calling my ex boyfriend and letting it all out. He’s the only person I trust letting it out to. I’m sure he wants to forget me, so I’ll just heal on my own. I’m mean, ‘what doesn’t kill you makes you stronger’ right?

So I’ll heal from it alone.

Be stronger.

And not let anyone ever make it happen for a third time.

Because I don’t like the repetition. I don’t like having that constant feeling someone is gonna get me again. And I don’t like giving someone else so much power over my physical or emotional state.

I don’t know the future, but I know I won’t let it happen again without fighting like I’m dying and I need to live to protect everyone else.

So it ends.