My cousin is friend’s with my rapist and I am not sure how I feel about that. In fact she isn’t even friends with me but has chose to be friends with somebody who contributed to one of the most horrific times in my life. You would think it would be obvious to pick blood over game but the fact that she has chose to do this at one of my lowest points mentally makes me wonder what she is truly up to overall. Enter me side left, or whatever side you need to enter on to be super dramatical but that is and always has been me. Kind of like I need a lot of attention to validate the little girl who was ignored after she was raped in her parents house while they took a shower. Yes it was a boyfriend and I truly did say no. The only thing that made him stop was when I began to cry. Anyways that all happened and so much domino’d after that I guess I will just keep on being confused on the above because to me it just ain’t right. I would never be friends with anybody I knew intentionally victimized women but hey that is just me. Once I know that what you did was dirty I look at arm’s length to see who else is connected. Nobody who is good just randomly hangs out with shitty people. Apple’s don’t far fall from trees unless squirrels carry them off and you are just as likely to find a bunch of nuts with those squirrels. then apples anyways. Dirty by association but that is just me. Mover, next, move along.

My Dad hates me and has only seen his grandson once and he just turned 3. Something severed between us long ago and there is nothing on Earth that. You can only mourn the loss of what could have been for so long until you genuinely begin to go crazy. To miss another human that much and know it is not reciprocated tears a hole in your being that can never be fixed. Even now just thinking about him I am so close to tears. I have the greatest memories of playing catch and just hanging out with my Dad it is hard not to be sad. I miss him so much that it just feels so impossible because I know that no matter how hard I try my dreams have already been stolen because all I have ever wanted was to be Daddy’s little girl. You can ask anybody who knew me up until then the sun rose and set in his eyes and it hurts like hell that he is gone. Pretty much the reason why nothing else has truly broke me is because frankly nothing can hurt as much as this. Until you meet my little boy, my Father’s image, it’s like having my best friend back right from the beginning.

I think there is a fine line between being stubborn and being righteous but there is another line of ignorance that intersects the two. The reason why I can be so cut and dry is because what else really do I have to lose. I don’t need another shitty person in my life that has decided to label me as such and such and befriends somebody who victimized me. There is no justification at all ever to being friends with somebody like that. Imagine seeing that person come on your feed over and over again liking your cousin’s pictures, reading the comments that he leaves. It feels like he is getting access to me all over again with the rape happening each and every time. That plays right into my mental illness, survivor’s guilt, PTSD. Call it what you will but it seems like somebody is trying to give me a lil poke right over the edge. Maybe I am wrong. Maybe I am right but I can read between the lines I have become very good at that.

Did anybody actually think about what it felt like to have to sleep in that room for the next 5 years? A 13 year old shouldn’t have to be scared of where they slept in their home out of fear and disgust what happened. Also this is part of the reason why I didn’t want to come back after I left and why I couldn’t get out of that house fast enough. Every minute after that night I felt I was suffocating. My life was collapsing as I knew it in ways nobody could every understand. Most girls were excited by their boyfriends and the possibility of the first time but me no my choice was taken away from me. What is worse is that somehow everybody knew about the abortion I had that summer so in addition to grieving over the loss I was labelled a slut because it was common knowledge I wasn’t a virgin. I kinda feel like I was disposable this whole time because the first time I break mentally some gossip was said and you decide I am no longer worthy and decide to poke at me instead. I wish in some way this should bother me more but I really don’t seem to care. Other than the fact I wonder how many people out there are victims just like me watching their friends be friends with somebody who hurt them.

It is all very similar to a friend I called out who like’s to back herself up with these crazy screenshots. When somebody takes the time to screenshot conversations with the soul purpose of knowing that they are going to need this info one day it makes me cringe. Are you that much of a shady person that you need to have backup to try and prove yourself worth to someone else. Oh my God check please I hate how grotesque that truly sounds. To take the words of somebody you haven’t talked to in 15 years citing they were a decent human being back then and sharing things I said oh no honey everything sours if left out to long and you my friend are yesterday’s news. Guilty by association all you and your friends. I got my eye on you and frankly girl I don’t give a damn I just prefer to keep one eye open to the things that make my skin crawl at night.