Have you ever had one of those days where you have only said one word. I have had that day. I have been having far to many of those days of late. Where I don’t want to say anything where I cannot come up with a reasonable ... anything to say. I believe its because I don’t want to share this secret that has been weighing on me. This thing that has infected me. Infected me to a point of sleep and sickness. To a point that I tear up and cry at the thought. Where other things have been brought up from the past. Have since been long forgotten. This thing that only one other person knows about and it well probably stay that way to. Thats something I can’t share. But I have that one person I can talk to, and I’m happy.
When I was little I was attacked almost daily. By this boy whom for some reason both hated and needed me. It very well could have been my first and well since then bad relationship. Abusive relationship.
It wasn’t anything like that. We were never playground boyfriend girlfriend. Even then the thought made me run in the other direction. This little boy was, had, started out as my friend. I use to like having people around me when I was little. Back then I would care why the popular kids didn’t like me. Now who give a flying pooh in the face. If someone doesn’t like me. I know I love me. Oh well.
I can remember now what he looks like. I can remember the feeling of sand digging into me. His little white hands holding me in place. I can see his dark, dark, black eyes looking down to me as he hits me. I can feel my confused emotions. Not understanding what I had done to get hit. It wasn’t just punching, he slapped me to. How he got me down on the ground was that he tripped me or pushed me. I can hear my thoughts, wondering why no one was helping me. Every time. Then as the thought happened someone was there. Someone was there to pull him off of me. Every time.
(Other things play out in my head. Laughter. Children's laughter. Like their standing around watching it being played out. I don’t think that happened. At least I hope it didn’t.)
That had gone on for days. Its probably when I stopped wanting people around me. When I closed myself off. When I started to push people away. When I started to get angry. When I stopped loving others and concentrated on me. Increasing my vanity as a protected shield against anyone who could hurt me. Anyone being of the male gender not of my family.
I went into myself and stopped talking. I stopped being happy. When I get really sad I’ll have days where I’ll only say one word. Where if I think of anything I can cry.
I hate the name Billy.
I forgot how much I hate being touched.
Why it takes me forever to even let a guy in. I remember why. I just don’t like how it came back to me.