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Sunday, Nov. 05, 2017
11:51 a.m.
<< [
Healing? ] >>

I watch the balloons caught in branches, like souls caught in purgatory. The suicide forest. A forest I knew well once.

Can you believe it's been ten years? I know because I'm twenty nine now, and it happened at one nine, when I was too young to know how to say "no" harder. Clearer. Better. In a way that would have been understood and would have stopped everything the way I'd wished for.

Ten years is better than never, I try to tell myself. Like a best friend consoling another best friend, I try to be kind. "You didn't know any better" and "this wasn't your fault".

I've been having nightmares again. About saying no, the no being rejected, and then the more terrifying thought that he has daughters now. He has a family.

How would he have felt if someone did to his girls what he did to me?

I read a terrifying article that said men who perpetuate sexual assault and rape don't believe they have done anything wrong. A small percent stop after trying it out once or twice, but most don't. Most continue.

Will he?

Lysander says I don't have a duty to anyone else but myself. He says focus on healing myself and whatever happens isn't tied to me. But I am a firstborn and a narcissist, and I can't believe that nothing I do makes a difference.

I need you to know you were fucking wrong.

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