Pouring Out Like Pain

Standing in the doorway, tears streaming from her tired, swollen eyes, she wondered why she was so upset. They had talked about everything that was said that night, and she was okay, but even still, the tears poured from her soul. She couldn't stop them. She had said everything, well, almost everything she had wanted to say, and she just wanted to tell him flat out. But the words were not there. Why was it so hard to tell him about what had happened? It was years ago, and she doesn't let her affect her today...at least not noticably. It probably could have attributed to her (near) failing grades in high school and her first semester of college, to her lack of any meaningful relationships with anyone her own age, and her total unadulterated hatred for people like him...but she was not letting it rule her life. At least not emotinally. So why couldn't she tell him? Why couldn't she tell anyone? It wasn't her fault, and she knew it. But the fact that she didn't hate him for doing it to her made her feel dirty and like she doesn't feel as badly as she should. But who was to tell her how she should feel? Still, she didn't want people to ridicule her, judge her, or pity her. And she didn't want people, regardless of the dirty, tasteless, horribly wrong thing he did to her, to judge him or think of him any differently. She doesn't even know if he remembers what he did to her.

But why can't she tell him what he did to her all those years ago? Because she's afraid to lose him. She's afraid he'll pity her and wonder who did that horrible thing to the woman he loves. She will never tell anyone who hurt her like that, but one day...maybe one day...she can say what was done. Every opportunity she had to say it, something got in the way. And the one time she really needed to talk about it, the last opportunity she felt was there and okay to talk about it, her last week of high school, she got screwed over. She went to talk to her good friend, her guidance counselor, and because she was a senior, the subsitute secretary didn't see it necessary for a senior to see the guidance counselor anymore.

So she sits in silence, wanting to talk about it, wanting to say it, but not wanting anyone to ask her any other questions, just someone to listen and tell her everything will be okay.

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I wish I could just say it...I just can't...I want help...