| digging up the past |
[07 Aug 2009|01:48am] |
you never suffered any consequences for that night, so long ago. you never faced what you did. i went home the next day, bloody, broken, and ashamed. i still havent seen your sister since that night. at the time, it was myself i blamed. i was told by my (then) lover that this happened because i allowed it to happen. i spent nights shaking with guilt, wondering why i was such a terrible person. but it was you, the terrible person. at food not bombs, cameron picked up a zine from the table jose set up. he put it in my bag to hold for him, and just now i noticed he forget to take it out of my bag. "#2 Women's Self Defense" with a couple of cute punky looking feminists on the cover. I started to read, and as I read story after story, my eyes filled with tears. i haven't cried this hard in a really, really, really long time. it felt so good to say out loud, "It wasn't my fault!" I probably shouted it a billion times. all the shame and embarrassment i felt that night has been replaced with anger and frustration. i don't hate you for what you did, though. i thought about writing you a letter, but i decided to let the past stay in the past. you will always be scum for what you did, as will the folks who kept me believing it was my fault.
It wasn't my fault.
It wasn't my fault.
IT WASN'T MY FAULT.
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