A Letter II

Since my Letter to my Ex was so therapeutic for me, I decided to write a similar letter to my ex best friend…

You were the nerdy trumpet player who wore glasses and had braces, but some how rocked it. You were the first person in our drivers ed class to get your license, but asked me questions when you didn’t know the answers. You told me I was the girl that all the other girls were jealous of. You were told to hate me, but we became fast friends instead. You played volleyball and convinced me to join the team. You rode horses and invited me to the barn any chance we got. We went to prom together. We graduated high school together and ended up at the same university where we received the same degree. 

Part II

I’m writing out my life in a timeline, so to experience my story the way its supposed to be told, start at I Was That Girl In School… then proceed chronologically by post date.

We have all imagined scenarios in our heads and thought about how we would handle them. What if a robber was running towards me on the sidewalk clutching another woman’s bag? I would stick my leg out and trip that sucker before he got away. What if I witnessed a car accident on the highway that ended with it catching fire? I would stop and offer to help. Maybe pull the driver from the burning wreckage… But believe me when I say: what you think you would do and what you actually do can be very different.

Part I

I’m writing out my life in a timeline, so to experience my story the way its supposed to be told, start at I Was That Girl In School… then proceed chronologically by post date.

I know what you’re thinking: “How does it get any worse?” I had mentioned in another post that I endured being blackmailed into having sexual encounters with The Recluse because I knew that it wouldn’t last; once he had his way with me, I would be back in the arms of the one person I truly loved. How messed up is that!?

Is It True!?

I’m writing out my life in a timeline, so to experience my story the way its supposed to be told, start at I Was That Girl In School… then proceed chronologically by post date.

What if he’s bluffing? He wouldn’t tell people. He’s just mad that I’m not his slave anymore; that I’ve finally stood up for myself.

Boyfriend had showed up just like he did hundreds of nights before. It was approaching dinner time. Mom was in the kitchen making dinner, Dad was in the family room on his laptop, and Boyfriend and I were in the living room watching tv. For a fleeting moment, my life was normal. This was how many evenings were spent in our household. That was until he showed up…

This Is It. No More.

I’m writing out my life in a timeline, so to experience my story the way its supposed to be told, start at I Was That Girl In School… then proceed chronologically by post date.

Boyfriend is back. All is right with the world. He said he would leave me alone. He said he wouldn’t tell. He said…

“YOU THOUGHT WE WERE DONE, DIDN’T YOU? I LIED. COME SEE ME.”

I can’t. I won’t. Boyfriend will find out. “No.” Was all I responded with.

“DON’T MAKE THIS HARDER ON YOURSELF THAN IT HAS TO BE. YOU DON’T WANT TO WAKE MY DEAMONS, DO YOU? YOU HAVEN’T SEEN ANYTHING YET. ”