It’s funny what memories can do to you.
I had breakfast with Lynn, my late best friend Carrie’s mother on my birthday back in February. My gift from her was her company and three photographs of my beloved girl. Two were photos of us together. The photo below stopped me in my tracks. Made my heart stop beating, made it a little hard to breathe.
On first glance there are four things that are very obvious to me: we were really happy that day, she is ALIVE, I am safe and I have come very far from those days. It was the last time we would be that happy in our friendship. Things would change very drastically in just one month from the time this photo was taken.
Do you ever have an outfit that you just love so much, one that is your favourite to wear? That summer that swimsuit and those cutoffs were mine. I wore it all the time. On August 30th 1997 it was also the outfit I was raped in. I was eighteen years old.
That swimsuit and those shorts were ripped off of my body by a man that was nearly four times my size. A man whom I said no and regardless of whether or not I was a) in a swimsuit b) intoxicated and c) friendly it was not my fault. Took me a long time to be able to say that. I have not ever dealt with it, I mean, how does one do that anyways? It’s always been part of me but it’s not something I go running around announcing. It’s done, it’s over.
This photo however brought it all back and put a lot of things about my life in perspective.
I broke both of our hearts and ran away to New England eight months after that happened. Things never really were the same between us, we ebbed and flowed…
This post is all over the place and maybe that’s because right now, in this moment I am too. We’re coming up on the one year anniversary of her passing. It hurts. Memories like this hurt even more. It really sucks.