Lilac

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A hopeful and empowering chapter.
TW: mild addition mention, SA/incest

November
I believe I will find other things to write about, I will know more than the hurt that once defined me.
I am more than my pain. I am not what he did to me. I do not have to be consumed by my addiction. I know happiness a little bit more every day.
I am happier than I've ever been. I often find myself taking a moment behind myself and watching myself as things are displayed in ways I never thought they would be.
I got a job at the restaurant I have been going to since I was a child.
I'm starting to really think I can get this. I have always wanted it and now I think I sense a chance.
I write endlessly. I write until the early hours of the morning. Every moment is captured. I fill many pages even during my boring day.
I pray every morning and night. I ask God my questions when I don't know who to go too.
I do my school work, sometimes I spend too much time thinking and doodling but the textbook chapters get finished.
I am happy. I am relieved.
I think about him every day even though I know this is nothing more than what it is right now.
Things make a little bit more sense than they ever did.

First day
I'm nervous. I write my name and the time I came in on a slip. I follow her to the back.
He shows me around, I watch as he explains where things go and how I cook this.
I listen to the same song on repeat and break down cardboard boxes.
I talk to the others that work there. They tell me about their lives. They call me quiet, it's been a long time since I've been called quiet.
I think that maybe he is not the person to tell me about my boyfriend. They ask me if I do drugs, I say no.
I pray a lot. I ask god to keep me sober over and over again.
I mop the floors and wipe down the counters.
I ask them if they like it here and they tell me they do. I think I will as well.

Last lines from October and November
I'll be okay.
It's difficult to live with.
Sober stuff is getting easier, the addict brain is alive and well but quiet at times.
Life is good.
Eye opening.
Tomorrow is nine months sober!
Happier than I've ever been.
It broke my brain but in a good way.
I feel like I'm really going to get it.
Listening to death cab for cutie.
Progress is progress.
Lots of relief and overwhelm.

End of story
I sometimes feel like I'm yours. I never wanted to be.
I always wanted to be more than this but sometimes it is hard to rid myself of your touch.
I don't know if you ever cared. How could you care? You never acted like it. We both know that.
I don't understand you, but I am not supposed to. I don't want to see inside your mind, believe me.
I used to ask myself why, but there is no why, no why that will fill me.
I would tell you the stories of how disgusting and vile you made me feel, but would you listen? I don't believe you to be capable. I wish you didn't have the power you do.
It's a pit in my stomach. I sit in a crowded room and I wonder how I would explain it.
How would I tell him? How could I make it clear that I never wanted this? How would I explain without making myself sound gross? What jokes would I say to make this easier to digest? What jokes would tell the story without putting me at fault?
I don't think it was my fault. It wasn't the fault of those who didn't notice. It wasn't the fault of god. It was his fault, your fault.
I don't care what happened to you, really. All I know is the horrors I went through and the instinctual and deep fear of ever making someone feel the way you made me feel. You made a choice, and you made it over and over again. I didn't.
You and I are different. When you got hurt you did everything you did to instill fear in me. I know it, you do as well. It was only you and me. You can tell anyone any story you want, you have to live with it. You know what you did.
Sometimes I want to tell the story but I don't know how to. I tell it over and over again but it never frees it from my mind. I will tell someone but they will never have been there.
I will tell them but I am laughing. I will tell them but I won't look them in the eye. I will tell them but I won't say the words to their fullest extent.
I don't know you. I don't know what you are. I don't want to.
Sometimes I am what you did to me. I am begging someone I love to not touch me like you did. I have a blurry vision every time someone mentions a brother. I am shaking. I live far away because when someone touches me I think of you.
Even if you don't feel bad for what you did you should. You didn't want me, you didn't choose me, I was there, that's all. Do you know how disgusting you are? If there is a hell you will find yourself there for every time you dared to call yourself my brother.
You do not deserve the title. You are not protective or loving. This is not family. You are not family. They took your photos down. You are not welcome here. You know that.
The truth is I am more than what you did to me. I am more than the rape and the incest and the choking. I believe this.
I am good, in the ways I am not I will be.
I am healing. I am whole. I am talented. I am loved.

Letter to him
I don't feel bad for you. I really do not care in the slightest what happened. It really doesn't matter to me.
You made this choice and whether you feel guilt or not you will live with the consequences.
You will have your photos taken down. You will not come to Christmas. You will be looked down upon.
I'm not yours. I don't belong to you. I never will. I never did.
You will not break me. It hurt me but bruises will heal. You won't. You will always be the man who raped his little sister. You can't rid yourself of that. I can rid myself of you. I do a little more every day.
Everyday that passes is a little more distance between me and you. Every day that passes is a day that's further away from the last time it happened.
I am growing up and moving on. I am someone good.

Safe
I can't breathe. Am I getting hurt tonight? I see someone standing outside the window, but they aren't there, I know that.
I know it's over, more than I ever have. It is over now. He's gone. He's not coming back.
I'm not a little girl anymore. He can't hurt me. I'm not his.
Someone reminds me that I am safe. He doesn't hold me but I have the sense that he is.
I hear that word and my shoulders sink. My heart beat slows. My breath becomes deep and relaxed.
I'm safe now.
I am safe to be scared and hurt but I don't have to be. I am safe to be strange. I am safe to have hope and be happy.

God keep me sober
I wonder what's in his hands. Maybe it's something I would like.
Maybe it wouldn't be a bad thing. Maybe it wouldn't be like last time.
God keep me sober.
I would control myself. It wouldn't be like I was last time. This would be different.
I won't hurt anyone. I know how to be kind. I wouldn't do something like that again.
God keep me sober.
I don't think they would find out. I could get away with it if I really wanted to.
I bet he would buy me some if I asked. He knows where to get it from.
God keep me sober.
I never liked weed much, it couldn't be an issue.
But one couldn't hurt. Just one time.
God keep me sober.

Dear Angeline
I think you would be so happy to hear about everything.
I want you to know that relief does come.
I know you see him far too often. I know what he puts you through. I know you think you won't escape this but believe me you will.
I haven't seen him in over a year and a half. I haven't heard his voice or seen his face.
I told mom and poppy and they believed me. He was wrong. They did believe me.
I know you feel like you belong to him but you are your own and you will one day know that.
You don't think you're good at anything but you will find something you know you are good at.
There are people in this world who really love you. They know everything you do and they love you.
You are not bad. You are not unlovable. You didn't do anything wrong. You are everything you need to be.
It's not your fault. He will tell you that it is but it isn't. You did what you had to do to survive. Do not blame yourself.
I wouldn't change a thing about you. You are exactly what you should be.
I am sorry for all that I have put us through. I'm trying to be good for both you and me.
I am sorry I ever blamed you. You are not the one at fault. I love you.

Letter to God
I am sorry for the things I have done.
Thank you for making things breathable. Thank you for making my life a life I want to live.
Thank you for making me happy. Thank you for pulling me out of the hole.
Thank you for the people that love me. Thank you for everything that has helped me get here. Thank you for the things I love.
Please show me what I need to change, because I don't know the things I can't see.
Thank you for making me feel whole.
Thank you for that author. Thank you for poetry. Thank you for my room. Thank you for safety.

I love the way I am
I love the way I can't sit still when I'm happy. I love the way I flap my hands.
I love the way I write. I love the lengthy rambles and overused metaphors.
I love the way that I care. I love the way that I want to make you feel happy.
I love my passion. I love my obsession. I love my dedication to the things I love.
I love the way I listen to songs thousands of times. I love the way I know every lyric.
I love that I survived. He hurt me but he did not break me.
I love that I live in pieces. I love that I probably always will.
I love my little routines. I love my video journals, prayers, and nightly diary entries.
I love that I am trying. I love that I want to be good. I love that I have not given up yet.

Her
I am disgusting. I cannot wash him off of me.
Why didn't I stop it? Why didn't I tell? Why did I listen to him?
He ruined me and I let him. He broke me and I let him. He changed me in a way I can never unlearn and I let him.
But could I say that to her?
Could I walk in front of little Angeline and say all this to her?
She is the one that lived through it. She is the one that survived it.
I could never blame her. She is not disgusting. She is strong. She is exactly what she needs to be.
I wish I could tell her it was never her fault. I wish I could tell her that she did everything she could and that is enough. I wish I could tell her that she will live a life untainted by him. Because she will.

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