You were my first, and it moved way too fast. I remember that morning you rolled over pulled my pants down and tried. My body didn’t respond the way you wanted so you stopped. You never asked. I cried in the shower trying to process what you were thinking. Later you told me what happened in the middle of the night.
You never asked, you also never checked to see if I was awake. I was out cold when you put your hand down my pants and just because I moaned does not mean I was awake. I somehow managed to block the incident out. But as I sat there asking God if I should fight for you after we broke up. It hit me like a freight train. I cried, screamed , didn’t want to leave bed. Worse of all I wanted to be done with life.
You knew I grew up being abused how could you do this to me too. How could you say I love you after that? Part of me believes you do not even realize what happened. Part of me is afraid you actually know. In a way the multiple times I cried when you laid next to me should have be a sign something was wrong. It’s amazing how our brain can shield you from pain.
I hope you never say I love you to another woman until you actually do love her.