There is nothing like another close call to being raped that reminds me how life is fragile, and how my mental is so, so close of shattering. It's not a pleasant feeling, it's more like an aftertaste in your mouth that never, never goes away, a tickle on your skin that annoys you, bothers you until you scratch. Then you bleed.
And right now, all the memories bottled up from when my grandmother abused me, from my mom saying :' you just imagined it, no worries', from my father saying: 'we know she's been doing some things to you but she's my mom, I can't hurt her', to Newfoundland when a man grabbed me by the neck and tried to drag me to an alleyway, to... Dec 31st, when I don't remember a thing, but waking up in my bed the next morning, with my fiancee beside me - all this is coming back. Fuck does it hurt, guys.
I haven't cried this much, this hard, since I lost Kami.
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