Letters

1.

The best thing in moving to an other country is, you got to get away from your abusive father. You get to meet new people, and you find love. People are others, free, happier.
Well it's more like a nightmare. You learn a language, you fail, you broke up with your boyfriend after three years. No-one appreciate you or your tryings. The abandonment and trust issues you feel constantly invading your thoughts, rushing through your nervs and fucking you up in every single possible way they could.
You may moved away from what hurted you, made you wrong, but the pain is still there and trying to get to you by hunting you on lonely nights. You find love and lose it. Then you try to get up, pull up a gown and try to strut your way through town, and wishing you would feel as confident as you look like to others.

*

After five years living in Berlin, I still feel what I felt back than. I am still trying to find myself, only I am not hopeful anymore. I learned so much. How to lose and not to threw a temper. How to forgive and try harder by every fail.
But there is one person who I could call in any time. And that's Viktor. He is still there after we broke up. He is still listening to me, even tho we couldn't figure it all out. He's the only one who truly believes in me, after all I said and done. Maybe that's why I still run back to him, so I won't lick my own wounds at home in a dark corner.
"Pain is there for a reason."
"That's true. Although I wish I couldn't feel it anymore. Just want to find out what my problem is." I make a smile so he believes I'm alright.
"I wish you could see yourself how I see you. You are strong, independent, and you know exactly what you want."
"Do I?"
"Yes. I know you won't believe it. It's hard to admit it when you feel so alone and everyone is constantly blaming you for mistakes you did. But people who love you, will forgive and try to figure it out." he lays a hand on my shoulder. "I know we weren't a match. But I feel lucky that I had you. You made me feel alive. You helped me through hell. You are great to be with. Because every time I see your face... I see a fighter. So don't lick your wounds. Celebrate them. Those are sign of a competitor."
I know how bad it was for me emotionally to have him, because he didn't supported me or gave the simple human decency everyone deserves. But he is right. I gave him way too much.
"I know that recovery is a long process and that pain is there for a reason. But I don't want to cry anymore, I can't. Even tho I want to."
"Than don't. But if you don't feel like smiling, just don't fake it."
I stare at him and remind myself how ugly my fake smile is. Every emotion is written on my face and I know everyone recognises them. I am true to myself. I don't lie about important things. "I need to go. University won't wait. Thank you so much for the coffee." on my way to the street I threw same change in the tip jar. I open the door and the sun shines so bright I need to cover my eyes. The warmth of the street is making me sweat at the instant. I look back, wave goodbye and run to the bus.
On the bus I'm zoned out by the things going on my mind and I don't even know which song is on the playlist right now.

*

Sitting in the classroom is so weird. I didn't really do anything this semester. I'm still constantly in a depression phase since January. Sometimes I have some bright feelings, but they never last longer than a day, and that's just because I'm trying to forget all the hurling pain in me. I don't know how I could let someone so near to me, when I wasn't looking for anything at the time. Somehow it feels like he is my soulmate. I felt it before but never like this. Never so long. I know breakups are hard and takes so much energy. The difference this time, that I did work for this relationship.
I recall every day what actually happened in January. How could I sleep with someone who I didn't actually found attractive at the first place? Who was always considered as just a friend for me. Yes I was high and drunk, but still how could I be so stupid to say yes? Or, did I say yes? The question is surprising me, and I start thinking. Imagining how it actually happened. The recognition cuts through my brain, I lay back in the chair and I feel my heart rushing. It can't be true. He was pushing himself but it is not rape since I said yes. Or is it? Was I raped or I'm just imagining it? It was two moths before and I closed the case. I don't even look for him. He is in the past. He was a friend and I don't miss him. Never actually did. But could I be depressed because I repressed the truth in me? I feel my blood pressure going sky high and my eyes are getting wet. I get my phone and hurry out from the back of the room. I'm trying to get some air. I ran into the toilet and wash my face, still panting and trying to calm myself.
"No, it can't be true. You just make things up. Get your shit together. It didn't happen. You said yes. Fuck, it can't be true." I pull my hair and the tears are breaking free. I am a complete mess and I should be in the auditorium by the students and the professor. Instead I'm here, making things up. I feel my intrusive self trying to blame me while my common sense just trying to put the  broken pieces of memory together. I wash my face again and then start thinking. "Okay. So it happened in January. I went to him in Kiel. But I didn't feel safe in his apartment. It's funny because I met him before and we talked a lot. We made it clear we are only friends. But he still hugged me and kissed my cheeks although he knew these are very intimate things for me. And I kinda pushed him away, giving him signals that I don't want this. Still he hugged me again and than offered me a sightseeing. We went to his University. And then smoke some marijuana. In the evening again and drank some beer. And when we got back to his couch, he pulled me to himself. I was too numb to do anything against it and I just wanted to get out of his arms, but it felt like sinking into the couch. And than he started to give me little kisses, making out with me. But I didn't actually said yes. I just... let it happen." I see the blood running out of my face and I wash it again, pinching and hitting so I won't faint. I'm gasping for air, and fall on the floor crying. My glasses've been fallen on the floor and broke in the second. But something like this happened back in December with him too... only, I felt more shit and it happened the morning after we met in the evening and I puke all around Berlin, trying to get myself conscious. He brought me home to his parents' house and laid me in his bed. The next morning I woke up and then I was sitting in his bed for an hour until he came inside and offered to watch a movie... and than that happened... he hugged me, pulled me close, kissed me... and then... "He knew... he knew what he was doing... did he rape me?" I dial the number.
Her voice calms me down "Hello, what's up?".
"Hey Kriszta..."
"What is wrong?"
"Everything..."
"I got half an hour. Talk!" and I do so.

*

At the second I stopped the story, she snaps me out of my trans and just says "It's rape. It's fucking rape, are you fucking kidding me?! Why didn't you tell me this?"
"I don't know." the answer is the worst, and I hate to say it but I am such a dumbass in explaining my emotions and thoughts. "I really wish I could say why I didn't do it before. Or the fact that I just realised it now."
"Are you planning to talk with Alex about this?"
"The whole thing sounds just like I have made it up. I don't even want to believe that this was rape."
"It is!"
"I know, I don't know... what the actual fuck is wrong with me?!"
"Okay, just calm down. You guys go on the Sigrid concert, won't you?"
"Yes."
"Tell him then. I mean the day after. You must tell him, because this is something you need to talk about with him."
"You mean it?"
"Yes. Tell him exactly just like you said it to me. He will understand. He won't take you back, but he must understand that you are not fine. And that he... I need to go sorry." she hang up.
"Kriszta? Terrific." I only hear the beeping, and than I hang up too. I go to wash my face one last time, dry it with the paper towels, and look into the mirror one last time. "This is it. I need to open up old wounds and deal with them. I'm gonna waist my whole summer on this. But in order to heal, I must rip off these band-aid and let the bruises get fresh air." I'm staring at my reflection and I realise how old I look, even tho I am only twenty-two. "But how will I admit that this was rape? Even for me it sounds so unrealistic."