The Honest Story

The Honest Story

His hands went to my face and quickly brought my attention to him as he pulled me in for a kiss. My mind went into a blur as I panicked and shoved him away. My heart racing. My feet glued to the ground. I could barely breathe.

He apologized. My head felt like a jug of water someone kept shaking. I told him to stop. I told him to not do that, trying to keep my voice strong. He knew I had a boyfriend. He knew I was with someone. He knew I wasn’t interested. He apologized again. I could barely hear him over the loud sound of my heart beating in my ears. He asked if I wanted to leave. I said no. How could I even move when I couldn’t see straight.

My body was panicking too much. As if it knew for a fact it was in danger. He could easily lift my weight. He could easily overpower me if he lost control. He kept staring at me. It made me sick. I wanted to run but my head still spun.

We walked across the street, him complimenting my dress. I couldn’t listen to him. I wanted to drown out his voice. I wanted to scream. I wanted to slap him, but I didn’t want to put myself in more danger if I pissed him off.

Then I felt his hand on my ass. My entire body tensed even more. I didn’t know it could even do that with how tense I already was. I walked faster, telling/mumbling him to stop.

I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t think. The entire world spun around me. It was a blur. But I finally got to my car. A part of me felt a little relief that I was minutes from being safe behind the locked doors of my own car.

He apologized again. He said something else but I couldn’t hear over the bees buzzing in my ears. He took a step closer towards me, his arms up for a hug. I stepped back but eventually ended up in his arms. I held my breath. I hugged him back wanting this to just end.

I missed my boyfriend. I wanted so much to be in his arms. I wanted to feel safe again. I wanted all of this to end.

His hand went to my ass again. I pushed him away but he held me still. I couldn’t move for a few seconds that felt like entirety. Then he let me go.

My feet were glued to the ground as he slowly walked away. I begged in my mind for him to walk away. I got into my car and I locked the doors. I couldn’t comprehend what had just happened. My body was in shock. My mind was a puddle, or like a pool.

I stared at my navigation system. I stared at my wheel. Where was I going? What was I doing? Why couldn’t I think straight?

I went to work. My mind rewinding the scenes in my head. I hated myself for playing dead. I wanted to slap him that smug look off his face, but my arm wouldn’t raise. I wanted to scream, but my voice had ran away.

I looked back at all the things I did wrong. I shouldn’t have offered him a ride despite him saying it took him 2 hours to get to school. I shouldn’t have went for a walk with him. I should’ve ran away when his hand was on me. I should’ve yelled at him with all my might. I should’ve pushed harder when he held me against his body. I should’ve done something more to fight.

A part of me wanted to scream. A part of me wanted to disappear. A part of me…just wanted to breathe.

Candid

Stifle

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If I were honest….

If I were honest….

If I were honest with myself, I’d know that I crave human interaction.

Not in the way where I want to go to the loudest parties and dance until I can’t feel my feet with a hundred strangers. Not in the way where I am looking for the next bar to visit. Not even in the way where I am texting all my friends up each weekend to go shopping. Not even in the way where I am calling up old friends to get lunch and catch up over some weird new trend that’s catching fire on Instagram.

But I crave interaction…or, maybe I should say, I crave meaningful interactions.

Where a simple “How is your day going?” text will brighten up my day when it’s sent by the right person, because I know that despite their busy schedule they still care enough to check up on me. Where a quiet study room with a couple busy friends who will motivate me to bust my ass to grasp every single concept I need to master. Where a simple walk in the park after a long week would feel like all the weight on my chest had vanished after the first time I laughed.

I don’t care if the conversation is as simple as “how are you”, “been busy and stressed”, “is there anything I could help with?”, “no but thank you for asking”. I don’t care if the conversation seems bland, as long as it’s meaningful and it’s coming from the heart. I don’t care if it’s ‘short and sweet’ or ‘long and heavy’. I don’t care if it’s in the middle of the little gaps in our schedules or if it’s spaced out between two days. I don’t care.

If I were honest with myself, I’d know that it’s not only the interaction that I crave…but it’s the connection that I miss.

The feeling as if someone finally hears me after months and months of screaming my head off, crying for something…something a little more. The feeling as if someone cares enough to fight for me and fight to be beside me, despite what the rest of the world thinks or says. The feeling as if I am worth everything that I believed would come true back when I was still dancing along with the fairytale theme songs.

If I were honest with myself, I’d know that I am always chasing after something or someone that I think is worth it.

I’m always hoping that a person who made the mistake of doubting me would wake up and realize what they’ve been taking for granted. I’m always dreaming of those fairytale endings where people realize where things went wrong and do everything they can to make things right again. I’m always wishing for things to take another turn and show me that a person who truly cares to be with me would come on back.

But, if I were honest with myself, I’d know that that stuff doesn’t happen to me.