"He" called me tonight. It had been so long i almost thought he forgot about me. Changed his number so I was not mentally prepared when I heard his message. I could tell he was drunk. Hearing his voice again felt like getting the air knocked out of me. I listened to the message way too long before I realized I could delete it.
"I fucked my girlfriend tonight and thought of you. How tight you were. I loved feeling you struggle, (laughes) like there was a chance. But I knew you wanted it. You were such a bitch you needed to be broken. And I broke you baby, remember? I owned you. Remember how i had every inch of you? God I miss that p***y...."
That is when I deleted the message. I think I have spent the past 30 minutes with my teeth clenched and my hands in a fist concentrating on my breathing.
I HATE that he still has such an effect on me. That after 6 years I still have panic attacks if someone touches my neck, or lays on top of me and I feel I can't breath. I still have nightmares. I still remember the way he tasted... like cigarettes, mixed with the blood from my mouth and nose.
I still have the scar on my shoulder from being pushed into his dresser because I refused get my clothes off fast enough for him. I still have the scars on my leg from when I refused to suck him. So he cut me and then i still had to suck.
Tate would kill me if he knew, and knew I wasn't going to say anything. Some secrets are better left on paper. Most secrets are better left never spoken...
10:59 p.m. - 2013-10-19
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too many times - 2016-03-24
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