A letter to my first love

Hey!
Your words torture me. I wish you never said those things to me. Our relationship could never be. I wish you had understood it better then. We were in the statutory category. I was in middle school. You were in British High School and about to go to college. How could a relationship that only existed in letters survive me growing up. You were an adult. I was just a child. Part of me feels that you took advantage of me because I was innocent and willing to do everything you wanted when you wanted. We became best friends and then you visted the first time to my house and it was too confusing for me to process. How in the world a man from a computer arrive to my house and be welcomed in warmly by my family. It is still so strange but there we were  confused and excited. We played games and enjoyed the outdoors during spring break and summer break. You would stay for a month at a time then you moved up to two months. It became too much. I was feeling suffocated. Then my whole world crashed in on itself and I had told my best friend how a man I didn't know came to me in the night and raped me. You were angry that I didn't come to you first. It didn't give you any excuse to say it was all my fault. I hid it from you to protect you. My life with you was supposed to be fun and almost secondary to my life at home or school in Oregon.


What you said to me was horrible. You told me it was my fault and couldn't understand what I had been going through. I was tortured by my thoughts in the day and wanted to die in my dreams at night. Why weren't you there for me instead?

My life was too much to handle so I ended it. I told you the last time you visited that I hated you and wanted you to never come back. You took all my shampoo when you took showers and it pissed me off. I didn't like that you wanted to force me to lose more weight and when I turn 18 to get boob implants. You dick I was already a 34 C. How could you tell me my body wasn't good enough? Were you using me?

When we broke up you told me that I was so ugly my own mother didn't want to keep me so she threw me away and some pathetic family with no hope adopted me. You also said that every year I keep getting uglier and uglier.

Sometimes, when it was late at night and I knew the time difference between Oregon and England was right, I'd try to find you. Sometimes it worked and we talked but it was only for you to tell me how angry you were with me. One time you were even drunk confessing your undying love for me but you couldn't be with someone who accepts they were raped only to do nothing about it. We talked about the trial I might go to but I told you that I couldn't handle it and we settled for a plea bargain. 


I'm older now and I feel that I am beautiful. I have a husband who thinks I am beautiful and he is very tall and full of ass kicking muscles. I wish someone would beat your face in. You are nothing but a weak insecure preying bastard who sought me out of boredom. You thought you knew what love was so you would fly across the country to see me. That is not love. I don't care if you flew around the world twice before you visited me every time. I hate you.

Things to remember when I'm older

This seems like a weird place to be at. A twenty something living in my own house, saving for retirement, being fiscally responsible, paying bills, doing grocery shopping...sigh* I looked back over the past year and I've realized that there has been many accomplishments that are laughable. I'd like to share some of them with the world.

My skills I've developed include:
- Knowing when you can no longer eat food that was left out on the stove
     - the next morning is sometimes okay unless involving dairy items.
- Drowning flowers in pots
- Covering up hang over hair with baby powder and hair spray before going to church
- Oral sex giving and receiving
- How to wash darks, lights, and colors in the same load
- How to use dish soap as it was intended and some not so conventional methods
- Folding dress pants for interviews so that it looks like I ironed a crease into them
- Top roman noodles in gourmet dishes
- How to vomit on purpose
- Crafting paper goods into decorations
- Sewing holes
- Pining original ideas to Pinterest.com
- Vacuuming pets


I've also learned some lessons:
- Don't drive with the parking brake on
- Dawn dish soap does not substitute for dish washing soap
- Cat litter needs to be changed more than once week
- Having twitter followers does not make you feel popular in real life
- Telling people about how popular are on the internet is not socially advisable
- Parents can not text back for hours or days but if you miss a single text from them the police start a search party.
- Wearing utility gloves makes you brave and invincible to poo and spiders

Helpful advice:
Don't go to bed angry with your boyfriend / husband
Remember to feed the cat
Remember to feed the fish
Rinse vegetables before putting them away

A Poem

I can hear her
She is inside my heart
knocking away at the lock I placed there to bar her in
Knocking constantly
I know what she wants to tell me
These memories I once had I can no longer bare to hear
She was a gemstone from heaven
Her beauty was great and her smile was warm
I can not remove that lock
If I saw her distress cry out of her face I would die
Pain kills me a little everytime I pause to hear her
Knocking, Knocking
Don't let her out, It's probably safer to hide her
That child inside my heart
She doesn't know but the world is different
It is no longer between night and day
The pain is real and the mind can not cope
Oh but if she could see our life here tastes sweet
It would be like dancing among lilies of the valley
-Rebecca (C) TwistedHousewife

Grief-Cation

Therapy the last time went pretty well. I finally want to move on from this. I am sick of wallowing and crying. The Christian women in my life have brought me so much encouragement. This does not mean the pain won't be there like an everlasting scar. Also the actual body scars are still there.

I am planning a "rape memorial" a "celebration of my life". There was 10 years I hid this away under my bed like some hoarding of memories. My family was not able to cope well with it either. In two weeks I'll be having a celebration. The plan is to invite people who this affected and who were there to offer comfort during my battle to get this man convicted. 10 years is a lot of repression to get through. I'm not assuming 10 years worth of grief will pour out of me at rocket launching speeds leaving me exhausted and empty in the end. I'll still have pleanty to deal with. This week is just mean to allow me time and freedom to grieve what I haven't been allowed to do.

After being raped, I still went to school where I continued to pretend like it never happened. It was a secret. I kept it a secret through high school and the many relationships I tried to have. I felt like it was my job to just pick myself up out of a puddle of cum and despair to help become better about what happened. Just keep a happy face. The years following the incident I felt like a zombie. I was dead. Before I was radiant and a happy child. Post rape, I became addicted to drugs, alcohol, and sex. I faked my way through many sexual relationships trying to find love and fulfillment. I tried to find the next high to mask the pain. If I couldn't get drugs or alcohol to disillusion myself, I'd seek danger and adrenaline. Speeding, jumping off bridges, running across traffic at night, and hooking up with complete strangers in horrible places.

This event will be huge for me. I am worried that my family won't take me seriously or try to help too much and not focus on the healing. It is like my innocence has died and I never got a funeral for it. For that little girl who used to be so happy. This week I am focusing on writing a letter to that child. I'll also focus on the happiness and joy that has come into my life since this has happened. I want to remember that I was not alone. I chose to sin against my parents, leave my house in the hopes of running away from previous grief from a grandparent's death, hop in a car with a stranger, and be transported to hell and back. I used to think I was alone. I was so angry at God. How could he allow a child to go this way in life? He must not love me or I must have earned this horrible fate.

I was broken and in the car (which is usually where I break down). My tears were pooling up inside my chest aching to leave my body. I thought to myself, "How is it, that I am here?"

This was the answer I received from the Lord.

A Harem and the Star

This is an example of how vivid I dream things. This particular dream scene came to me last night and is not particularly nightmarish to me but has some elements that really did effect me as being real. I did wake up feeling that this was someone I have once been before or currently am. I DO NOT believe in reincarnation of the soul or having a past life. Most of my dreams have been much too gruesome and intense for me to write down. Due to my own imagination abilities I do find that I have to limit the amount of theatrics in my life (movies, music, horror, the news, etc) or I'd be completely over whelmed and never sleep. NOTE: I write immediately after waking up and only edit things for grammar and to make sense. The details I see in dreams are exactly as written. I'm always interested in knowing what my dreams mean.

PART I of a Harem Dream

I was a Beautiful princess married to a prince in a foreign land.

My skin had a deep caramel tan. I wore charms and bells on my ankles and feet along with fine jewelry of rare gems and stones around my neck. My hair was long and nearly touched my lower back.

During my marriage to the prince we had difficulty becoming pregnant. We tried for years but finally the prince was about to become king and needed a son to become his heir as his father, the present king, was aging and would surely die in a few years.

He sent me with the castle mystic to a place far away in a forested part of the land. There was a hut with several older mystics still practicing magic. They stripped me of all my clothing and tied me down with stakes and rope. They poured oils over my hair and body and chanted around me. One of them was whispering to a handful of what looked like rocks but the more she spoke to them the shinier and more beautiful they grew inside. The rocks became crystal like and glowed from within. A metal gleam bounced around the site as a mystic sharpened her blade by a roaring fire. I was becoming sleepier than ever and had difficulty remembering where I was and who these people were. Burning searing pain seized my lower stomach. I cried and writhed. The blade tore into my stomach again. I could see the crystals now they were bright stars from heaven. They placed seven inside my pubic bone and stitched me up with a purple cloth and clothing string.

I awoke in the palace bedroom with the prince waiting impatiently around the bed. Finally, I had awoken from a two year coma. The king was now barely able to maintain order in the kingdom and the Prince was becoming stressed to no end. He asked how I was feeling. I responded with tears in my eyes and questions on my heart, “I’m alive?” “Yes, but how do you feel?” It turned out that the Prince had been making love to my body in a coma in hopes to place a child in my womb. To his disappointment and soon my end I was not with child.

The street corner the prince threw me to was deserted in the night. Only torch lamps and palace guards were scattered among closed merchant carts. The prince apologized and cried. He gave me a kiss on my forehead and told me it was the best for the kingdom that he find a fertile woman to bare the legacy.

 I was distraught for months trying to scrape out the crystals that protruded around my vagina. No other man would have me. The universe would not bring me peace and I stayed up all night contemplating my own death alone and never having a child.

In a desperate one last attempt I gathered fine linen and stitched myself a most beautiful garment of gold and purple. I washed my hair with jasmine oil and mint. My skin was clear and fresh and I felt alive. The hut I was living in had an older woman who took me in. There was dust on the floor and it had opened windows to the elements. The building was made of tan stone carved out of one rock. It was small but the wind drifted through the window and around my hips and hair.

Under nightfall, my steps would not be detected easily.  In my heart I knew this was the riskiest operation I would ever face. I could feel adrenalin coursing through my body. I remembered the way to the back entrance. Once there, I slipped on my ankle bells and jewelry. I felt like a princess again. I crept slowly up the stone stairway silently. My breath was in my ears and my heart pounded so loud I feared I would be caught and beheaded. I did not belong here.

The prince was in his study, awake. I approached the opening and whispered, "my love". He stood up quickly and ran to grab me. I felt alive again in his presence and embraced his shirtless body. The room was warm and smelled of sandal wood. There were candles lit among pillows and soft sheets. I pleaded with the Prince to allow me one last chance to be with him. I felt love in my heart again when he allowed it. “Quick make sure the castle is secure” he called to his man servant. “Yes my Lord”. “Oh and send in a palace nurse” he added quietly. When she arrived her arms were full of blankets and a basin of fresh oils. She romantically removed my home stitched linens and oiled my skin. I was then guided over to the prepared place to lay waiting for the prince. I missed him so in my coma and didn’t have a chance to be with him awake. My stomach glowed. As it twinkled I felt a surge of butterflies fill my face and heart. He approached me in a sarong.

He made love to me not for business. It felt real, as though he did feel love  for me. I clung to his arms and smiled. From below his body pressing in on me, bright white light poured out of me and spread throughout the room. I felt as though I had spun into the heavens and touched the inside warmth of a star.

“Check her” the Prince panted an order to the nurse. “Yes Lord she is ready” she replied. I became confused in my ecstasy. The nurse was coming towards me with water and towels. On top of the towels were long strings and needle sharp items made from bone. The Prince came behind me and held my arms and shoulders down while his man servant was instructed to hold my legs. Fiery pain ran through my nerves as the nurse punched holes into my lips and tied me shut. The Prince kissed me on the mouth hard. The light from within me slowly left the room and day was arriving.

“What will I do?” I pleaded. “You will know what to do. Return to me when you have grown”. He then grabbed my wrist, “wait, you’ll need an offering to the mystic at the door”. The time had passed us and it was nearly dawn. Town was bustling and sounds of people arriving in the streets echoed up the stone structure around us. “Here take this”, the prince handed me a seashell dish filled with bird food and nuts. As I left alone through the corridor and down the steps I approached the old woman. I recognized her from my fertility ritual. She was now shrunken and wrinkled with time. I handed her the dish with bird food and she snatched my wrist hard. Birds flocked in around us chirping and squawking at the dish in the dust. “You are in danger now my dear, run to protect your baby, do not bring him back here, do not lose your way”. She handed me a prism dagger from a pouch on her side. It felt cold and hard in my hand the edges were serrated to a point.

My body tortured me from within with birth pains. The old woman I had been staying with was gathering blankets and clothing to throw in a trunk. As she gathered she chanted slowly in whispers. I could not tell what she was saying exactly. The stones inside of me felt ready to burst and break open my stomach. I fell to the floor gasping and grinding my teeth in agony. We rushed out the entrance. The old lady whistled and another mystic came through the adjacent alleyway with a black horse. Together they hoisted my nine month old belly and I up. “Where had this time gone?” I thought for a moment. Then, the mystics whispered to the horse and slapped it hard on the rump. The constant motion of his body against mine made me want to die right there. He panted hard and smelled of stable hay. The muscles on his back pressed into my labor pain. Tears poured out of my face.

In the forest, the oldest of the mystics alerted the others of my arrival. I collapsed off the horse to the grassy ground immediately. Rolling over on my back I let out a wail. This baby was coming. I could feel the head pressing deep down and fast. My hands uncontrollably grabbed clumps of grass out of the ground in handfuls.  I opened my eyes briefly in a haze throwing my head back in a growl. There were mystics from all over the land in a circle whispering around me. The eldest of them was at my knees with her head buried in to see and coax the baby out. My home stitched dress was raggedy and blood stained from the horse ride in. My breasts were swollen and ached. I had dirt across my arms. My mind was foggy.

Silence fell over the forest. The heavens opened up and light surged down from the stars. It lit up the entire earth. I lay there crying and howling in pain. New wailing entered the world and the eldest mystic held him up in her hands. The baby was covered in shimmer and blood. “A star has been born!” Hollered the eldest mystic and the forest chanting grew loud in excitement. She nestled his tiny body up to mine and wrapped him to me. I cried and glanced down at his face. He was the most beautiful child I had ever laid eyes on. I loved him immediately.

I knew this moment would come when I would hear army trumpets and the sound of men romping through the forest. Word had spread through the land and the Prince was looking to seize the next heir to the throne. Terror. My body ached in worry. I held my baby star close to my chest and prayed over him to the heavens. “Watch over my little star wherever you go and wherever you are, I will find you and I will love you as long as I am away from you I will always seek to find you”.

They tore through the huts with fire torches and arrows. Mystics hurried and screamed all around the forest ground. Slashes came through the thatched roofs and tore open the homes. The eldest mystic packed me up a satchel and supplies. She strapped the baby to my body and sent me off on the black horse. She whispered to the horse and we took off with a sprint down the forest hills and to the nearest towns over.

It was an ambush as soon as I had arrived. I crouched down and screamed “No one takes my baby!” I slashed out at the guards with the prism dagger. It tore open their flesh and blood poured from their wounds onto the ground. I fought with everything I had. I prayed God would give me strength to save my child. The horse neighed and bucked at the soldiers pressing in on me. I was over come and the baby was ripped from my body. The heavens above let out a thunderous crack and it began to pour down rain.

I was left in the mud alone crying and screaming at the top of my lungs “Bring my baby back!”. I punched at the mud and writhed in it. A young lady approached me. She grabbed a hold of my clothing and pulled me into the local bar. A clamoring of glasses and burly men halted as I was dragged crying and wailing to the cellar.