Not The Lucky Ones

III.

You know whats one of the worst things someone can give you?

hope

False hope that is.

I was ready to accept the fact that I was never going to have a father figure. No one to go to father daughter dances with and no father to walk me down the aisle. I was ready to have my mother working non stop in order to provide for me and my three siblings. I was ready to raise my sisters. I was nine.

But then he came into my family's life. He made my mother happy. And for a while I thought that we could be happy again. That we can maybe make a version of a family again.

He gave me hope.

Hope that maybe one day we could unite and make a family.

That hope was crushed when his coarse, unholy hands took passage around my body. Touching and squeezing in places that should have not been touched by anyone without my consent.

I was afraid. I was scared. I hoped it wouldn't happen again. Which is why I didn't say anything that time.

Or the second.

Or the third.

But what are you to do when you have a panic attack caused by him? Or several for the matter? You don't know how to deal with it. So you confide someone in it, hoping that they will seek help for you because you don't know how.

And thank god that they did.

But that wasn't the ending.

Why? Because he had left your mother and yourself with a 2 year old reminder that had wildly curly hair and dimples that made themselves present whenever they shone a smile.

You don't want to take his father away from him the way you had yours taken away because you don't want him to grow without a father. So you insist that he stay in contact with him.

You just gave yourself a trigger. Congratulations.

Whenever your brother mentions his weekend with his dad or you hear your mom scheduling a mutual pick up location and time, you get a small panic attack.

But you suck it up. Because you have to. Because you dont want anyone to ask you

"Are you sure you don't want therapy?"

Yes, I'm sure I don't. Because I can barely confide my issues to my best friend let alone a stranger, because I don't want to feel vulnerable anymore, because I've had to deal with things on my own for a while that now i don't know how to confide in anyone. I don't want those stares of pity, the "i'm sorry's" because they don't understand. No one understands.