Time and time again thoughts of my past haunt me. I have to chase them away more than I should. I have a boyfriend–a very respectful, respectable one who loves me the way I am and honestly… spoils me.
But there is a secret–a dark secret that I haven’t told anyone. A secret that fills my eyes up every time it is brought to mind.
I have told him that something has happened to me and I haven’t told anyone and that I won’t tell anyone. He asked if I will tell him and I say no.
But I need to.
I know I need to–But it hurts.
I know he doesn’t read this blog and the only person I personally know reads this, won’t judge me so you are going to be my trial audience. Ready? Ha, I’m not. My last boyfriend sexually assaulted me. No, I was not raped–I am still a virgin… I guess. But, I was forced to do things that I promised I wouldn’t unless I was married. I didn’t have a choice. It happened. He made me think for the longest time that it was my fault that it happened–that I asked for it. For years I have stood in front of the mirror looking at myself as disgusting–like a used piece of garbage that there is no WAY someone could want.
I am afraid to tell anyone. No one knows besides myself, my ex boyfriend (the perpetrator), and God–and now my fellow blog readers.
How do I tell him? I am afraid I might cry–I don’t want to cry. I don’t want to tell anyone. It is my secret and telling someone that lets someone see all the way into my naked soul. Secrets aren’t always bad, are they?