He Sat Next To Me

He sat next to me.

Thinking that because I am quiet.

I haven’t been through this trauma.

In life.

I might not really be able to open up.

To him.

And he was fine with me opening my heart.

When I could.

Never pressuring me.

To let him know everything.

And I didn’t.

Not just yet at least.

I didn’t tell him the times.

I couldn’t fight.

I had to strategize.

I didn’t tell him.

About my childhood.

The good and the bad.

The wrong and the right.

He didn’t ask. I gave in.

And so I sat there.

Staring at the screen.

Thinking.

I’ve been through assaults.

I just don’t want to tell you everything yet.

I thought it would ruin your image of me.

I’ve never always had help.

But the woman that he was referring to.

Was me.

I’ve been through counseling as a child.

12 years.

And men shaming other women.

But I don’t want you to shame me.

Because I initially kept it in.

Don’t be so inflamed with anger.

He went to his phone.

To text a friend.

I stopped him.

And told him the truth.

But I also tell him.

That there’s nothing to be afraid of.

I am here for a lesson.

For progression.

There was never a reason.

To treat a child like that.

Me. My inner child.

And I got help when I was younger.

Because I used to cry.

All the time.

At home and at the school.

As children, I told him.

There were so many people.

That didn’t forgive themselves.

That there was more truth.

They kept doing things to hurt other people.

To get to me. To hurt me.

And in order to get rid of the hurt.

I had to tell you the truth.