june 3, 2005
it’s been two years. two very long years. i still hurt. i still cry. i still wonder why.
it was never a secret, i haven’t been the same since. the date is forever burned into my mind. i sit alone and dread the sixth month of the year. june. june holds a painful past. the painful past from 2003 and 2004. two years that changed my life forever, in two very different ways. two years that were a struggle. a struggle i cannot put behind me, where it belongs.
i can look back today and be thankful. thankful i am alive. thankful for a family who didn’t abandon me in the way that so many women and children are abandoned when faced with sexual misconduct. thankful that my family assembled a net to catch me when i fell. thankful to have had the opportunity to do what is right in the face of sex crimes, knowing many never have the strength or courage to do so.
thankful that i have a mother who supports my every decision, my every dream, my every mistake. thankful that that mother is also a mom. a mom who selflessly put me first while dealing with her own personal hell. a mom that i am proud of, for more than just her growing strength and ability to handle everything thrown at her with dignity and grace. i am thankful for a father who is proud of any and every downfall as well as the rare achievement. a father that is way more than just a father, a man who is a dad. a dad who during sleepless nights would sacrifice his own rest for an hour of my own. a dad who fell to the ground dumbfounded at the idea that i was hurt once before. a dad that has wiped countless tears and forced millions of smiles just to see a ray of hope in the face of his child. thankful for a brother who never gave up on his only sister while watching her struggle through a fight she didn’t win. a brother who would stay up late into the night until we were both too exhausted to hold our heads up another minute. a brother who slept in my floor to make sure i too was sleeping. a brother who in his own way dealt with the turmoil and pain. a brother who as a child handled the situation like a man. a man i am proud to call my brother.
i am thankful for caitlin paige. the woman who showed me that i was capable of loving another. the one who gives me hope. she provides so much more than any person should. she makes me smile when all i feel are tears running down a tired face. she brings me peace on bad days and inspiration on good ones. her love, support, understanding, and friendship are like no other and i am proud to call her mine.
looking back allows me to remember where i have been while being forever grateful to have made strides at restoring personal faith and trust. i can still see the pain in the mirror, especially today. i remember the struggle and how disgusted i felt, and it hurts just the same. every action of this very day is so vividly burned into my memory. those memories i cannot escape. my only hope is that neither can he. i hope he is living in a hell that never cearses to exist. i hope he suffers too. i hope he has a painful death.
the anger within me never lessens. for two years i have faught the anger that is fighting to get out. the anger that wants to yell and scream and be irrational. its not who i am, just a part of my past. a past that is dark. a past that shall forever remain in the past.
as i choose to spend much of the 3rd day of june alone i reflect on the progress. the progress i never thought i’d make. the progress that now brings pride somewhere deep within that i didn’t give up like so desperately wanted to. the progress that allows me to sit here and write this piece in remembrance. the progress that allows me to continue to dream as big as i ever did. the progress that allows me to draw each and every breath i breathe.
