Occasionally I go to your Facebook. I look to see where you live, if it still says the same place as the last time I read it. I scroll through your posts, the ones I can see to see if there is any hint of any new information about you. I study your pictures carefully, remembering the shape of your eyes, the creases in your face.
It isn’t that I want to remember that smirk that you make, or the way you sound when you speak. I don’t want to remember how you smell or how sick I get when I even think of your name. In fact, I don’t want to remember you at all, anything about you. But I have no choice.
You gave me no choice, no say.
I struggle to remember every day things, but I remember everything, every little thing, that you did. I remember like it was yesterday. I have no choice but to remember.
I try to forget, I honestly do. I can’t. So if I can’t forget and I can’t live a normal pre-rape life, then I’m going to etch every inch of your face into my memory. I want to prevent ever seeing you, or you seeing me. Look at that, you even took my sanity. Just when I thought I hadn’t lost almost every bit of myself to what you did to me, I find another part of me that you took. You made me crazy. I try to get my pieces back every day, but you’re holding them hostage it seems.
I need to know, how do I get my pieces back ?