Ten Years Later

[saitaina]

Originally published at Memoirs of a Nobody. You can comment here or there.

I realized last night, for some odd reason, that it’s been ten years since I was raped. I have no idea why this struck me, but it did.

Ten. Years.

And I have to wonder if I’m any better for those years. I’m still pissed off, though more at the crap judicial system then my attacker (I’ve long since forgiven him for being an ass) and I still don’t trust men (except a select handful).

How much longer, until I can forget? Until I can let go of that anger? Until I can be in a man’s presence and not wonder what would be the best way to drop him on the floor if I needed to.

I hate this, I hate who I am because of it.

I hate the fact that there’s a part of me that wants to stand on the tallest building and scream “I was raped by my fiancee and no one cared!”

..and yet I hate the fact that I can forget for months at a time it happened.

I hate I can even think of this as an ‘anniversary’.