Meant To Be

"It will be perfect baby I promise."
The words that devoured me with the direst cruelty of despair in the hopeless and untimely belief that the words he said... he meant. But he didn't- he never did. You could say it would be unfair to rule out the good on his behalf of the story and the sweetness he conveyed towards me; however, every memory that runs through my throbbing mind (in the hope that one day they'll remove) was bittersweet.

I don't want to remember him, not after what he did to me.

But, I remember it all clearly like the catastrophic memory was yesterday. So part of me could still feel the strength he pushed onto my ever so resisting body urging me to come closer and fall for it - but I didn't want to. Vulnerable and weak was I: his victim. Did I ever mean anything to him? How could I if the only recollection of an establishment of what was supposed to be love and affection was force and assault? For that was all it ever was - assault.

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Hey guys, so this is a story that's based on something that happened to me. This is sexual assault during which my ex boyfriend pulled on me. I really hope you enjoy it, and please pass this on to others so the
awareness of how it actually feels to be the victim can be passed on.
Thanks guys
X