Not realizing the memories I have could be skewed until they’re pointed out to me.
That first kiss, your soft touch. I didn’t say no but I didn’t say yes either. The blurred lines between what’s right and wrong, I’ve never been good at distinguishing the two.
In my memory it was a moment of closeness and love, we were one and I wanted it, I told myself, that’s what I wanted. My first kiss and first everything all at once, magical.
Reliving it in a therapists office, things look a little different. I was scared. I was scared when your hands started moving from writing love letters on my hips to circling lower, higher.My hands pathetically pulling at yours when they got a little too close to where they shouldn’t be. The darkness. The selfishness. It wasn’t for me. It wasn’t for us.
But I didn’t say no, did I? I didn’t say yes, but this one is on me because I never said the word “no.” I don’t think I wanted to, but I didn’t know anything about the ways men can use you and hurt you, the way they could love you and cherish you.
It shaped me in ways I wasn’t aware of. Basing my value on my body alone. That’s all I am, after all. A body to be used.
The cycle continues, because of you.