Status: complete!(:
Unseen
Andrew Charleston.
ALY: Right now, I wish you had picked up the phone. I know why you didn’t. You never answer the phone when it’s a number you don’t know. And it’s probably during the school day. If it even is a school day. I don’t know my days of the week anymore. Right now, I have no idea why I am calling you. For six months I have been trying to keep you out of my mind, to give you time to heal, to give you time to find someone new. I have been trying and trying but it’s too much today, on Valentine’s Day, to try and forget you. I only know that because of the people walking around in red and pink. And all the hearts pasted on everything. I am so sorry to force myself upon you like this. Part of me hopes that you won’t even get this message. Part of me hopes that you never thought I was dead. Part of me hopes you still love me the way I love you. I am so sorry for doing this to you. I hope you’ve moved on. I hope I’m not destroying what little peace you had built for yourself. I love you, Andrew. I love you so, so much. Please, don’t ever forget that. Even if you’ve moved on. Just know, that no matter what, I love you.
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Sometimes, if I close my eyes tight enough and hold my body hard enough, I can think about IT without falling apart and dying. I can go back to that dark hotel room in the middle of that busy, busy city. My mind can sift though the events that led up to that moment HE ripped me apart at the core. I can try to think through the way the plush pillow muffled my screams and absorbed my tears while HE stole from me the last shred of dignity I possessed. I can remember the pain that laced through my body. I can remember trying to fight HIM and losing, even with all the adrenaline coursing through my veins. I can remember how HE moaned and groaned while I pleaded with HIM to stop. I can try to understand what I did wrong. I can try to figure out how I let HIM rape my virginity away to the sound of cars honking and buses wheezing in that busy, busy city on that dark, dark night. But I can never stop the tears. I can never stop the screams that still leave my throat. I can never stop the vomit from crawling out of my esophagus. I can never stop my body from convulsing no matter where I am. I can never stop blaming myself for what HE did that night. I can never stop running away from HIM and HIS need for my body. I can never stop the fear.
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Sometimes, if I close my eyes tight enough and hold my body hard enough, I can think about IT without falling apart and dying. I can go back to that dark hotel room in the middle of that busy, busy city. My mind can sift though the events that led up to that moment HE ripped me apart at the core. I can try to think through the way the plush pillow muffled my screams and absorbed my tears while HE stole from me the last shred of dignity I possessed. I can remember the pain that laced through my body. I can remember trying to fight HIM and losing, even with all the adrenaline coursing through my veins. I can remember how HE moaned and groaned while I pleaded with HIM to stop. I can try to understand what I did wrong. I can try to figure out how I let HIM rape my virginity away to the sound of cars honking and buses wheezing in that busy, busy city on that dark, dark night. But I can never stop the tears. I can never stop the screams that still leave my throat. I can never stop the vomit from crawling out of my esophagus. I can never stop my body from convulsing no matter where I am. I can never stop blaming myself for what HE did that night. I can never stop running away from HIM and HIS need for my body. I can never stop the fear.