I feel myself lying down.
I feel you over me.
I feel the blood pooling beneath me.
"How did I get here?" I ask myself.
I've blocked out all my memories of you.
I'm not hungover.
I didn't drink.
I find myself wondering why you seem so nervous.
You're acting almost as if you need to hurry.
Like you've decided you feel guilty.
Guilty for deciding to take the one thing I kept from you.
Then the memories come flooding back.
Wondering why you were in my house.
Seeing how angry you looked.
Spotting the bottle in your hand.
Your bloodshot eyes.
I remember asking you something.
"What are you doing here?"
You seemed amused by this question.
Maybe I seemed weak.
I know I felt that way.
I remeber reminding you something.
"In case you forgot, we broke up."
You didn't like remembering this.
"I've moved on."
"I have a boyfriend."
"He loves me for real."
"I'm done dealing with your shit."
You seemed to be angrier with each word I said.
I was the only one speaking.
You acted without words.
You slapped me, something I was used to.
I didn't fight back.
I knew it wouldn't go anywhere.
It sure as hell didn't help the first time.
Defending myself would only give you more power.
More of a reason to cause me physical pain.
Fighting back was always your biggest reason.
I could still hear your voice from the first time you explained it to me.
The first time you tried to 'teach me how to be perfect'.
"Retaliation isn't an attractive quality."
You always said this speech as if you were confessing your undying love for me.
"If I'm not attracted to you, you'll have nobody."
I always knew I wasn't very pretty.
You used that to your advantage.
You just always told me that you could deal with that.
You said it didn't matter that I was ugly.
You told me that as long as I did what you wanted, you would love me.
I craved that love so badly.
I couldn't find it anywhere else.
So I let you push me around.
I let you tell me what to do.
I let you embaress me in front of our- your friends.
I wasn't allowed to have friends.
I wore what you told me to.
I spoke only to the people you approved of.
I took your advice, even when I knew it wasn't the good kind.
I watched you flirt with everybody.
I stayed conservative for you.
I let you kiss her.
I pretended I didn't notice when you whispered in her ear the way I wished you would to me.
I pretended I didn't see it when you pushed her hair behind her ear.
I pretended I didn't long for you to touch me like that.
I pretended it didn't hurt to see you be gentle with her.
I pretended you were sweet in private too.
I pretended you were even more romantic with me than you were with her.
I lied to keep your secrets.
I lied to help your facade seem real.
I lied for you.
Maybe I got sucked into the past.
Maybe I just fell back into my old habits.
Maybe I got lost in the look of hostility.
Maybe that's why I didn't fight this time.
Maybe that's why I let you pull me up to my room.
Maybe that's why I only struggled a little when you held me down.
Maybe that's why I was lying underneath you, bleeding.
Maybe that's why I was feeling like such a slut.
Maybe that's why I just pretended it wasn't happening.
I thought about my boyfriend.
His beautiful brown eyes.
That perfectly messed up blonde hair.
His laugh filled my mind as I let you finish.
You pulled off the condom.
I allowed myself to open my eyes.
You looked at me with such remorse that I almost felt bad for you.
I almost forgot that you had just stolen my virginity without my consent.
I almost got pulled back into that trap you'd always set for me.
It was almost the same look you gave me after you hit me.
It was just stronger.
I turned away.
You dressed yourself and left.
For good.
I laid there for a while.
Replaying what had just happened in my mind.
I'll never forget that.
I hope you're happy for destroying me.
I hope you're happy that you've finally broken me down.
You stole my confidence.
You stole my freedom.
You stole my will to love.
You stole my innocence.
I hope you're happy.
Super glue can't fix this little toy of yours.
I hope you're happy.
Time doesn't heal all wounds.
I hope you're happy.
This one may never heal.
Congratulations.
You broke me.
