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“The idea of freedom is an absolute. Therefore I will never be emancipated from the guilt and pain I've endured until I have succeeded in acquiring the justice I deserve. As I go on the lines between justice and revenge, fantasy and reality are merging into a grey that I am worried I will not be able to separate. I am not consumed by hatred because I know my heart still beats for those around me and I still want to love again, however, the priority of this event is being pushed into second place for my ever growing desire for freedom.”
For three days I sat there looking out of my window. It was
almost as if I was waiting for something, waiting for someone or something to
tell me what to do and where I was to go from here. Echoing voices and
questions resounded in my head of whether I was to tell someone or just hope
that he would never come back. The
gravity of what had happened was only resting on the surface and I knew deep
down this was going to get worse before it got better.
I read this quote once ‘love is but the discovery of ours
elves in others and the delight in the recognition’. There was no doubt that I
loved him, I would have done anything for him. I gave him so much in terms of
my time, my affection, my body there was nothing I wouldn't do for him. So If I
was to love this man, a man that was capable of these horrific things I had
seen a part of myself in him. That's what began to circle round and round in my
head that I was like him. We shared the same fundamentals and at the time, I
felt like, morals. I definitely didn't think he was capable of this so what was
I capable of. If pushed what could I potentially do? Out of everything that had
happened, the crime against my womanhood
and the violation of my sexuality the part of this horrific nightmare that would
prove to haunt me was the idea that I was just like him.
About a week later I received a text message from him. When
I saw his name pop up on my phone my heart started thumping against my chest.
At this point the events that had taken place hadn't at all it was just a
horrible nightmare that I was trying to forget. ‘After all that I left my stuff lol, let me know when is convenient to
pick it up xxx’ I felt sick, not at the fact that it was him but at the
fact he was pretending that all of this didn't happen. For a moment I felt real
compassion, I thought he was trying to act like it didn't happen because he was
so deeply sorry. All the questions and the name calling that had been circling
around in my head was gone. Because of this I mindlessly said I would bring his
stuff to him, not because I didn't want to be in my room but because I didn't
want him to feel uncomfortable. I think it was because I was subconsciously
holding on to the idea that he was a good man, and if he was then I was too.
After a few days of awkwardly exchanging texts I went to his
flat to drop of his stuff. On the bus to his flat, I couldn’t help but make
excuses for him. In my head I was guessing what he would say and running
through all the possible explanations he could have for his behaviour that
night. However, none of them involved the obvious notion that he may have just
acted out of hatred.
“yo”. That's what he said to me, after everything that had
happened all he could say was ‘yo’. So taken back with his insulting disregard
for what had happened I replied in the same way. After an awkward exchange of a few slang
greetings he asked me if I wanted a drink. I accepted and we went into his
living room to talk. “How’s work and that?” he asked almost convincing me that
he cared. I replied and told him that work was going really well and that I was
enjoying it. As I was speaking he was
looking through the bag of stuff that he had left at my house. I was rambling
on about all the old people that I worked with when shouted “where is it”. I
had absolutely no idea what he was talking about but I was getting scared, that
head I had filled with anticipation for some sort of reconciliation between him
and I was fading fast. I could see he was getting angrier and angrier each time
he asked me, I told him that I didn't know where it was. He was looking for a
lucky guitar pick that his father had given him when he was younger. My heart
started to thud like it did before and I was feeling too many familiar emotions
evoked by the events of the last time we were alone together. Just I was trying
to catch my breath he grabbed me and pinned me up against the wall. All I could
think was this is not happening right now. “you fucking stole it didn't you?
you fucking bitch”. There was a pause
and a silence as we both tried desperately to catch our breath. “And about the
other day you better not of told anyone or I swear to God I’ll fucking get you”
I felt like I’d been hit by a bus, I wasn't even sure if my heart was still
beating because I felt like I couldn't breathe. I pushed past him and ran for
the door and kept running till I didn't recognise where I was. I stood at the bus stopped staring into space
in complete disbelief of what had happened. I had been fooled again. He had
done what some would call unforgivable and I had despite everything still
believed in him.
I woke up the next morning in a bit of daze. Still in
complete disbelief about the events that had taken place over the last week or
so. I was so hurt and confused about everything and all I wanted was for it all
to go away. I had become very good at hiding how I felt and putting on a front
to ensure no one would ever suspect anything different. So, I did what most
human beings do when things get tough, I tried to forget and move on. I changed
my number, blocked him on Facebook and lost contact with all of our mutual
friends. As far as I was concerned I had deleted him from my life.
A few months passed and as far as I was concerned all that
had taken place was a nightmare that took a little while to shake off. I was
going out with friends and trying to enjoy my life again. Even though I kept up
this charade, deep down I knew that this thing hadn't gone away. Guys had come
onto the scene but I was still unable to even stand close to another man
without breaking out in a cold sweat. It wasn't just effecting my emotions any more it was beginning to affect my life and everything in it, but then came Dylan....
