trigger warning

  1. Anger is watching my flatmate, my favourite friend, come home sobbing, hysterical, in her mum's arms after she was groped at her cousins wedding.
  2. The wedding that she'd been so excited for, looked forward to all month. She'd bought a new dress, new shoes. Painted her nails with glitter polish. Pinned her hair up, did her makeup.
  3. I heard footsteps on the porch—heels, so I knew it was her. And a second pair. I listened to the door unlock, and then open.
  4. And I immediately heard her deep, heaving sobs.
  5. I was out of bed, at my bedroom door, right when I heard her cry my name.
  6. And instantly I knew what had happened.
  7. Because I've been her.
  8. And there's this thing when you see this tall, radiant angel of love and light, fall to her knees, crying, on the kitchen floor, where you just know that nothing's ever gonna be okay.
  9. And I don't mean to be a downer, and I'm certainly not saying there's no hope in recovery, but sometimes I just can't help but feel like I'm never really gonna be over it.
  10. It's been almost five years. Two months shy of five years. Actually if we're counting days it's less than that.
  11. And I'm still not okay. I'm never going to be okay.
  12. Am I just supposed to accept that?
  13. I'm trying medication again, I'm trying counselling again. And who knows if pills will work this time, and yeah talking is helping. But it's still there.
  14. And last night, watching her distraught, all I could see was myself.
  15. Every time someone touches me. Every time I'm someplace where men's voices drown out any other possible sound. Every time I think about dating. Every time I think about what I want for myself in the future.
  16. But most of the time I feel fine. As though it's lost all power over me.
  17. Until something triggers it, and suddenly I can feel his hands on my skin, still.
  18. I don't think I'll ever lose that.