kennedy

 

It wasn't like those scary scenes in a movie. It wasn't a spontaneous attack. He wasn't some stranger in a ski mask late one Saturday in an alley. He was the cute boy with the beautiful blue eyes who told me he loved me while we were driving during a sunset on a Thursday. He was the one who held my hand, sang to me and laughed at my bad jokes. My best friend of three years. I was happy and in love and I thought he had been the same.

When there were stories of him assaulting a girl I knew, I took his side. I never thought he could be capable of such a thing. He was better than that. He had to be better than that. I was blind. I believed what he wanted me to and took everything he said as absolute truth.

Months later I was the only girl willing to talk to him and I felt as if it was somehow my fault. I felt guilty, like there was something wrong with me for loving him but not wanting him sexually. Like it was my fault for my friend not liking him back. Like as payment for my "wrongdoing" I needed to surrender all I had to him. 

Surrender wasn't something that ever had to happen. I never gave up but the "surrender" was taken. Held down in the back seat of my car by strong hands and harsh words. I couldn't fight it. I shut down and let it happen. After weeks of discomfort, spontaneous tears and blood, I stopped it. I couldn't let him in anymore. I decided that it was better to hold myself together on the outside and let myself fall apart on the inside. "I've only ever had sex with one boy," is something I've said so many times but in reality I have never truly had sex. I have never let anyone that close.

Six months later I'm with a wonderful boy. Another beautiful boy who holds my hand and laughs at my bad jokes. A boy who is so good to me. A boy who says all the right things. But as I lay in bed I worry about why I'm not happy with this boy. How I feel I could never be happy with this boy. All of the good is just a reflection of what I once had. How suddenly it could crash like it had before.

I lay in bed night after night with this beautiful boy who I can never fully give myself to out of fear of what has happened. 

"History repeats itself." But it can't this time. I want to be strong. I want to be better.