No time to cry,
what is there to cry about?
the milk was spilled so long ago
and it was only a little bit of milk
There are people who’ve had it much worse
so what are you making such a fuss about,
why do you walk around feeling so
and wanting to punch somebody
after decades have passed?
maybe because it did f***ing matter!
it was my body that was invaded
my boundaries broken
my spirit messed about with
Don’t tell me it wasn’t a big deal
I’m the one who has lived with the consequences
I am witness to how much it messed me up
Yes, I want to move on, but not through saying it didn’t matter. I need to yell really loudly first, get it all out of my system, puke out of me the sense of disgust that has been there so long, cry out all those tears that I keep holding in. And I need someone to hear me out and to say: yes, it did matter. yes, it was wrong.
A reminder to my readers: just because I share stuff that I struggle with, that doesn’t mean I’m asking you to come to my rescue with help or advice or whatever. I’m offloading for the sake of offloading, and also for the sake of anyone who has similar struggles and may be helped by reading my own take on it. Please do not try and tell me what you think I should do. Thank you.