This isn't simply about childhood trauma, nor is it only about rape, though those elements of course figure largely here. It's about finding oneself, and finding the person who can hold that person without reservation.
Maybe I’m just a dreamer, but I believe that love should be easy, it should be simple and clear. It shouldn’t be all questions and games and it shouldn’t leave you wondering or waiting.
Reason Number Three: When something
disappoints you, why would you return to it like some sort of lost dog? Some
Pit Bull maybe, banging its face against the bars in fruitless hope? The
promise of love, of care, of commitment, only to be leashed, walked, and
killed?
Wherefore art thou?
Thou art euthanized.
I gather my books and stuff them into my bag.
Time to leave the classroom, go find my janky Civic, get behind the wheel, and
drive over to the phony-swank spaghetti palace, except it feels like my
Converse are Super-Glued to the floor. Super
Glue does no good Rooster always says. Duct
tape. That fixes everything.
Why
am I thinking about my father’s opinions on household adhesives?
Why
can’t I handle the fact that the roof is coming down, that the walls are
closing in?
Matt’s
gone, Romeo too. The best friend I trusted waited until my back was turned and
then hand-crafted a KICK ME sign.
The
places I went to for help instead harmed me. The doors I knocked on for support
stayed closed.