With his last girlfriend, I was able to uncare, if that is even a thing. It was like the straw that broke the camel's back. When she dumped him, I didn't care. I wasn't happy, and I certainly didn't feel bad for him even though I talked to him as if I was concerned for his well being. I just needed reassurance, I needed closure. The last time he kissed me, I asked for it. He told me I knew what it would do to my head. I told him I wanted to remember the last time he kissed me. And so he kissed me. And it wasn't the same to me knowing I wasn't the only girl he had touched like that. It wasn't the same to me knowing he could do what he did to me to someone he didn't love. And in that kiss, I was preparing myself to let him go. That time has finally come. I have finally been able to separate myself and I have finally been able to uncare. The day I deleted all of our photos off of my phone I felt a hundred pounds lighter. I feel as if I am no longer imprisoned. I am free. I am free to uncare.
But now the memories come back. The ones I forgot about. The ones I chose not to remember. And I want them out.
YOU ARE READING
Evolution
Non-FictionThere are a lot of things you don't really think about until they happen to you. Take rape, for instance. I always thought, "That won't happen to me. I have a boyfriend. I trust him. He would never take advantage of me like that..." I couldn't have...
