In spite of the joy that surrounded me an insatiable tiredness took more and more place in my heart. I wanted to rest and it has always. I could only see through a keyhole. This idea grew in me as a child that we would feed every day by sharing our food with. I didn't feel in my place, I wanted to be somewhere else all the time, to escape from this prison of pulpit that restored me in this world.Everything was ready. Letters of farewell by means of doing so. I missed more than to slip them into the bag of my friends. So I hid them in a book. One day this book fell from the table, as if by divine intervention, Steven saw them. He shook me violently with his words and actions. Taking off my blinders. I wanted to live.
17 years old, I had found a boyfriend who loved me, I was especially far from this school in which I had so many bad memories. New life new start again one. After a brutal change of orientation I found myself in public high school a kind of factory has studies. More than a thousand students, in a building under construction.
He and I didn't go to the same school. We met through Romain. He was a great friend of his. When I met him, I thought it was love at first sight. The thrill that I had felt all over my body when I crossed his eyes made me think of it. It was the biggest mistake of my life.
A billion messages were exchanged between the meeting and the moment we decided to get together. At first everything was fine, he was gentle, he looked at me as no one had ever done it at that moment in my life.
At that age, we all had an idea in mind. When will our first time pass? Mine happened with him. It was sweet. I thought he was going to be the man of my life. Then everything changed. He became jealous, possessive, aggressive. Like a dog that we'll try to get his bone out of.
I had never really been told about the notion of consent. Making love was a conjugal duty for me. Whether I wanted to or not, I felt pain, if he wanted to, we did it. We no longer made love, he fucked me. It was violent, painful. He held my hands, choked me, and I couldn't breathe. I tried to say no, he did it anyway. Some mornings ago, when I wasn't awake, he already had fingers in me. I was raped and abused for a year. I never had the courage to tell anyone about it. I was alone in the world in this hell. If it had happened, it was my fault. The little voice in my head kept telling me that.
Then when I left him, all this fell into oblivion, my brain protecting me as I had not been able to do it it obscured these memories. But no man could touch me without me shaking.
It is in an almost voluntary amnesia that this year is over.