Moonlight Kisses

acceptance

jordyn.

Two days ago the announcement was made that the disgusting person who violated me in a way I'd never wish upon my greatest enemy, was now dead. Death is an odd thing really. If the most stellar of scientists weren't living, they were dead and one can't really get access to a pen and paper when you're six feet deep in dirt. Death was something I haven't really feared because I knew too little of it to fear it. All I could comprehend was that one moment you were here. And the next minute you aren't.

Leo was no longer on this earth, he'd be six feet into the ground by next week so I heard. His body was no longer functioning, he could no longer torment the living (or maybe he could if you believe in that sort of thing), every mark, every footprint, every trace of him would be gone and decomposed.

But like the greatest poets, scientists, artists, he managed to leave his mark on the world. By spreading out the heaviest of burdens among countless girls who weren't capable of refusing him, his memory would never die.

The piece of me he stole would never come back.

It could have been worse. There's always some worse outcome in this world. I could have been Eden Hayes in this life, a girl who'd gone out on a fun night in town with a few friends who ended up in a car accident that took her life. I could have been Sophie Clemonte in this life, a girl who fantasized for something real and thought she found it in the guy she met by chance. Fooled by a facade that only ended in those closest to her and in fact herself getting a part of themselves stolen by said-guy.

Beau once told me that my struggles were just as valid as the next person. That I shouldn't invalidate my own thoughts and feelings and emotions because I'm human like everyone else. It's normal for me to feel these things, but my brain just isn't wired like that. It's trained to think about everyone else but myself. Going to therapy would make my dissociative patterns go away, but my selflessness would stay.

Speaking of, I have an appointment with Brooke and I haven't even gotten out of bed. I'm not sad for the reasons one may think. I couldn't give two shits about Leo being gone, I think it's a really fucking good thing actually. Even if I was giving him the benefit of the doubt in saying he might have changed one day, how long would it take for that day to come? How many women and girls would he hurt before he finally decided it was enough?

In all honesty had he been continuing down the route he was, he would have ended up rotting in jail for a very fucking long time. Death was a very merciful outcome in my perspective. They said he was killed on impact too, not a fucking minute of suffering.

I could only hope hell was making him pay for every last person he ever hurt in this world.

So no, I wasn't at all sad about him being gone. I may feel an ounce of sympathy for his family. His mother may not have known what her vile son had made of his time here and for a mother, losing a child is just heartbreaking. And his little sisters, they're going to have to cope with this. Death isn't easy for anyone involved.

His death meant I could never make him pay for all the things he did to me, to my sister, to my best friend. His death meant that I would never be able to see that asshole rotting in a jail cell, hating every single fucking day of his natural-born life. Of course, his life withering away in four concrete walls would never amount to the scars he left in my mind, but hell, it was a fine start. Maybe this sounded cruel and unusual, but there came a point the day I found out what had happened that I reached such a place of rage that I fantasized about watching the realization wash over his face in a courtroom where he would be sentenced to life in a tiny jail cell. I was angry and I was hurt, eventually the fantasy left my brain, but the need to seek some kind of justice for what had happened never did.