This was going to be tricky. After what had happened to me this morning was a bit embarrassing. I could not believe that I collapsed in his office. Not only that but people were with him, it's like breaking down and not having any will to stop it, it's quite childish to me. I hate it when I do it, but it's I the past and I have to move on.
I was recently in the room with the same men that was in there with me this morning. To be in the same room with them knowing they saw me practically break down earlier, was a little uncomfortable. But like everything else I have to push it aside and focus on what it important. Me feeling this wasn't.
They were all waiting on me to start, having everyone stare at me. The thing was I didn't know how. How do you randomly tell them that? Where do you start? The only thing that came out of my mouth was 'Um.' Thank god for someone for speaking up because I didn't think I could.
They wanted to know everything about him.
"Where did you guys live?"
"How old is he"
"Where did he take you when you were little?"
"Where does he go, and when?"
I was getting squashed by questions that were bigger than me, most I didn't know. I didn't know where he went or when, nor did I know how old he was. Then they came to a part to where I can actually give them an answer without being unsure.
They wanted to know how life was at home, to them it just might give them something to work with. I was glad I could actually give them some kind of information. The only problem that I realized was that I had to think about it. I had to remember what happened. And in doing all of that, I was stuck with having the images come back.
I said that life was just a life to me then. It didn't matter what I did to please him I always got hurt. When I was little life was better. I got hit less and he would take me places. I remember we had gone camping when I was little, it was only once.
I had explored where we were a little bit with out him knowing, when he found out he took me home and beat me. From then on it got worse. As I got older the beatings were longer and more savage. I told them once when I was 13 he dragged me up the stairs only to throw me down them and start kicking me. After that moment the beating became regular, everyday.
Even though I didn't do anything to him he still hit me. I had decided it was enough and that I would get a job. I did the next year and worked everyday. When I turned 17 I ran away, which they already knew. I talked a little more and told them random things. I talked about the friends I had, where I went to school, when he used to take me places until I did it myself without him knowing.
It was a lot to remember, not easy either. Flash backs of getting kicked, thrown down the stairs, punched in the face and so one, were running threw my head. When I came here I thought I was going to escape my past, now it's like I'm reliving it all.
Mathew had called it a day and we left the office. Instead of me making food, he did. In 45 minutes he had a plate full of food in front of him and I. We didn't talk, we just ate. You could hear the other person chewing, the silverware hit our mouths and us moving around in our seats. That's how quiet it was.
When I was done I cleaned my plate and went off to my room- I mean ours. That's what I had planned to do, it's what I did for weeks when Mathew was always in his office. Before I could make one step up the stairs my arm was grabbed gently and pulled back. For a minute I thought the wall had arms and pulled me right into it, making me smash my face into it's wooden self.
But slowly I realized it wasn't a wall but a person. Then I knew who that person was, Mathew. From the tingles that ran down my spine and all around me as what ever part of my body had touched his was on fire.
"I'm sorry" he said. 'What' was my replay as he ignored it and continued speaking in a sad but genital tone.
"I'm sorry for not realizing what pain you went threw, how bad your situation was. I'm sorry for not being a good mate and being there for you when Sid died, for when you found out who was behind it and for not coming to bed to comfort you when you were hiding the sadness until you made contact with the bed in the dark. I'm sorry" he said.
Not only did he say it but there was so much emotion in it that it had the words I was going to say, vanish out of my mouth. He had me mute for the time being, and beyond shocked. It touched me in a way that nothing else did. A tear had slipped my right eye, as it left a salty streak down the side of my face.
I pulled away from him and looked him in his amazing eyes, taking in every look they had. I leaned in and pushed my lips on his soft, plump ones. Threw the whole kiss it was passionate and slow. It was carnal but yielding.
That's how our night went. It was caring and grabbing everything we missed. We didn't go to far, knowing it probably wasn't the best time. But we didn't care, all that mattered was that we were with each other.
