Wednesday, Jun. 22, 2005 - 12:28 p.m.
You asked to see me again. Wasn’t once enough for you. What are you trying to prove with seeing me standing in front of you?
Do you really think that I’m that same little stupid girl that would let you rape her mind, scar her skin, chew her up then feed her to the dogs, or at least the scraps of her that were left.
You don’t deserve to have me facing you, having me trying to invent a new smile to put on my face when I stagger in front of you.
You almost made me laugh when you uttered the words “Can’t you forget about what happened in the past?” Forget? How can I forget? Our past is embedded deep inside of me where the rest of my dark memories reside.
Sometimes when I hear your voice my stomach still churns, and at times I have to bite my lip and start breathing in and out very slowly for the fear of vomiting whenever I hear you call me by an old pet name.
I still stand by what I said; I really don’t see the need for you and I to continue talking. You’re only going to make illusions in your head about any ‘what ifs’ and I can’t let you drag me into that kind of thinking.
I do recall having said my farewells before and that didn’t seem to work, and I simply don’t have the strength to start treating you badly again. Perhaps I am too young to blame my inconsistent returned phone calls on dementia.
