365 x 2 + 1

Two years ago I was here. I lay right there in that spot. Beaten and assaulted by someone I never saw before. And never saw again since. I became someone else after that. Someone I am still trying to figure out.

Still, sometimes, I flash back. Flash back to the me I was before all of this. She was happy- getting somewhere- following a plan of some kind. The me of that night. She finally had some fun that night after years of pain, back surgery, and giving up her first pregnancy. The me of the attack. Screaming fighting clawing. The aftermath. The fear the anxiety the sleepless nights of smoking. The imprints his heels left on my thighs.

But now, it is two years later. And I am here. A place I dreamt of in my secret moments. A place that I felt would save me if I ever got there. And now I am here. Possibly closer to the person I dreamt of being and the man I always wanted to be with. That is of course, if I don't blow it by being me. The me that gets in my way. The way I snap. The way my emotions turn to sour milk. The way I become a stranger to myself- a stranger I don't care to know. Someone who is needy and wanting and clingy. Someone who pushes him away by pulling him too close. I got to work on that. 

I have spent the past two years coming out of a prison beaten into me by a stranger. A stranger who wanted nothing more than to rape and hurt me. A man who tore me up from the inside out. I have spent the past two years trying very hard to become some type of normal. To try to love myself in spite of myself, since that would be the only way for you to find then love me. I try very hard at all this. It at times can be quite exhausting, terrifying, freeing. Something.

Another year has gone by. And I find myself here. Here in this place. Here waiting for me, trying to find the me in me. Still waiting. Waiting for me-us. Me and You. Something.