I still blame you for putting us through this, I still blame you for letting me stand alone, while promising me that as long as I believe we will, we can. I still blame you for walking away and extending this torture, instead of expanding our future, for pretending there’s no other way. I blame you for making me feel like there’s truly no way out, to the point that I become as hopeless as I am love deprived in this loneliness of heartache far from your calm safety of resurrection and revival.
I honestly don’t care anymore, what is realistic or not, if this love is real it should be able to provide us with the power to overcome and persevere. Not only in separation, but in ways to end it also. Not only to get through this together, but to remain in togetherness also.
It might now even be all on you, I know it’s not, but in the powerlessness of this struggle, the urge to blame someone other than myself is maybe the only thing that can still keep me hopeful. As contradictory as that sounds, as it is.
Sometimes not having a choice is also a choice. I principally don’t believe in the concept of regret, because it’s useless by default. Regret is not the same as learning from mistakes and moving on for the better, regret is dwelling in past mistakes and not providing the means to change course. I do, however in all my contradictory ways, regret many of the choices we said we had no choice but to make. I still blame you, but now I blame myself too.
blame
Confessions of a Rapist.
I raped a girl today. It wasn’t my intention. But it happened. I don’t know if it was because I felt like she was showing signs of wanting me. Or because I just wanted to, in spite of anything she wanted.
At the moment, I didn’t think. I didn’t think about any of that. Because I guess I didn’t care. I didn’t care about any of that. I saw what I wanted and I took it. And I took it good. Maybe she even enjoyed it. Maybe she just pretended to not want it. Girls do that sometimes. They say no, because they’re not sure, because they feel it’s wrong, because they want to play games. Not because they really don’t want it.
So I took her to a place nobody would come by. I knew that, because I’ve been there before. To just be alone and smoke weed or drink and think about things. I took her there and I sat her down. We talked, I thought I could talk her into being into me. She did show signs of liking me, but I still wasn’t sure. So I just started touching her. She did say ‘no’, but it wasn’t very convincing. She seemed insecure. So I went on. I took her hand and put it on my body. I told her to suck my dick. She said she had never done that before. What? She was 19 years old, 1 year older than me. How could she have never done that before.
I told her to try, she said she didn’t want to. But I was already hard, I don’t know why. Maybe because of the look in her eyes, asking for me to save her, or her trembling lips, that I wanted to touch so badly. I took her hand and put it on my dick. I told her to touch it. I lifted up my sweatpants and put her hand in my boxers. Her eyes became large. That meant she liked it, right?
She tried to pull her hand back, but I didn’t let her. I got up and pulled her up with me. I turned her around and kissed her neck. That way she would feel comfortable. Comfortable and happy about what was going to happen. She kept saying ‘no’, but I felt like she didn’t mean it. I pulled down her pants and her underwear. Now she was begging ‘please don’t do this’.
Those were just words though, she didn’t do anything to stop me. I pulled out my dick and put it at the entrance. I pushed in and it felt so tight and warm, wet even.
If she’s wet, how can she say she doesn’t want it? How can she not want this? It feels so good. I hold her tightly around her waist. She screams ‘no, please stop’ a couple of times. She puts her nails in the skin of my arm. I tighten my grip and hold her firmly. She’s not going anywhere. She is mine, for now. I thrust in and out. I fuck her hard and deep. Now she can’t deny me anything. No one can deny me this. I’ve earned this, I deserve this. She belongs to me. Her body is my pleasure. She keeps begging me to stop. It’s starting to get annoying. I tell her to wait, I’m almost done. I feel like I’m going to cum, but she needs to shut up. She’s so tight and warm, her body feels so smooth and soft in my arms. How can she not feel what I’m feeling? This feeling is awesome, fucking awesome!
She has her hands covering her mouth now. See, she does enjoy it, she has to control herself not to scream in delight. I thrust a couple more times and I cum. I empty out all my built up frustration and sensation in her precious little hole. I stay in there for a minute. Trying to regain the feeling, trying to block out her crying. She’s ruining it for me!
I pull out and walk away to clean my dick. I come back and she’s still standing in the position I left her. I must’ve fucked her in shock, that’s how good it was. She can’t even move, that’s how good it was. It must have been that good to her. She has her hand covering her mouth and she’s crying. Fuck, why is she still crying? Wasn’t it as good to her as it was to me? I try to pull up her pants, just so nobody will catch us here. She doesn’t cooperate, but she also doesn’t struggle against me. She’s still crying.
What did I do? What’s her fucking problem!? Wasn’t it great for both of us? I take her to sit down again. I wipe her tears and try to comfort her. She doesn’t say anything, and is just crying, still.
I try to talk to her, while stroking her head, but she seems so distant. The things I say, do not seem to reach her. I don’t know what to do anymore, I’m giving up. I’ll just take her back to the station. I’ll just get rid of her, as soon as possible. What a disappointment this is.
Fuck! I guess I just raped her…
Heavy on the heart…this happened 8 years ago today.. (written in my perception of his perspective)
Now I will
My heart is too widely open
I could be crouched down with a blade pressed to my skin
But if someone would then and there need me, I’d forget all the hate and hurt, just for them, temporarily
To have it waiting for me when I return to myself
I will still, help, love, care
Even if I can’t do any of those for myself
My heart is too widely open
But the love flows one way
Because I don’t know how to receive
I’m not blaming anyone else
It’s not self pity either
Just a reality I either have to get used to
Or find a way to change
But what makes me think, that after 15 years of trying
Now I will succeed?
Unconditionally Broken Hearted
I loved you through all your fakeness
Your lies, your betrayal
I should’ve ended it there
Cause those were all signs
You don’t know what real is
You could never handle my darkness
My pain, my sorrow
I should’ve never believed
The promises you never kept
Because you don’t know what love is
Unconditionally broken hearted
How you left me thinking it was my fault
The hurt inflicted on me
Was never my wrong
How you manipulated every situation
To clear yourself from blame
I should’ve never been this strong
As your weakness proved
You never knew what you claimed
To love me, you only pretended
To know how, but you never knew why
A Letter to Purpose.
Hello Purpose, remember me ?
I first met you over a dozen years ago, an insignificant while before my childhood froze into wintertime. As that ice sculpture still remains, other seasons thoroughly overwhelmed and interrogated the rest of my belongings. In reflection to what I may have lost or gained during the lengthy depths of travels through these times and spaces, I could find no reason to resist a recollection, specificly of our distinct familiarity within the wide spectrum of all supposed acknowledgments.
I have no pretense to claim in presuming that you might be inclined with this same sensation, but I feel strongly dysphoric about the unforseen and somewhat reluctantly imposed seperation that fell upon our amity so unfortunately. Who is to blame, perhaps, if blame is entitled to posture in this particular affair, I will not be the one to judge.
Because our acquaintance was of fairly short duration, and therefore qualifying merely as vague and faintly unconscious, it received never a chance to be or become more deeply intensified. This to my most sincere regretfulness, as our former interactions held so much promise within their potentials. In spite of this endurance of unawareness on both ends, I know there is still a mutual understanding of how it used to be and possible a slightly more sufficient and respectful comprehension of how it could be, to begin with.
These apparant visions I gave focus on sharing with you, for us to plausibly reunite in any of the nearest by of futures, in absence of any sense of expectant coercion, are faithfully substantiated and hopefully witnessed within the care of this letter.
Hereby, I salute you, hence seeking eagerly forward to, if residing in good fortunes, an equally heartfelt response.
Forever Faithful & Patiently Awaiting,
a previous possessor of Purpose.
Truth Beyond Mystery 