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If You Don’t Scream, It Will Kill You


There’s this man that I really kind of like, and today I wouldn’t let him touch me. Yesterday we were fine. I mean, we are always pretty amazing, But then yesterday he told me he loved me, and in return, today, I wouldn’t let him touch me. We spent most of the evening in different rooms. Him, checking the temperature of our relationship, wondering when I was going to let him back in. Me, trying to shake the feeling of damage and guilt, while containing the ugliest of attitudes and an untamable cry only my therapist is ever allowed to see.

Today I wouldn’t let him touch me, because it made me think of you.

There are days like today when I think of you a lot. I think of what kind of person you were, and what kind of person you are today. I wonder if you are sleeping well, eating well, taking care of you the best way you know how to with everything that has gone on. I wonder if your mind holds you captive as you have managed to escape some time behind bars.

I wonder if you have made mental bars of your own.

Kind of like I have.

There are days like today where I wonder if you think of me. Because I have changed since that night. I’ve changed a lot. I don’t trust too easily, I’m skeptical of almost everything, and I don’t really sleep that well. In fact, I think I may be serving your time, because for the past four years I have been on house arrest in my own mind and my own body, and apparently now I’m not good enough for love.

There are days like three Thursday’s ago where I took all the necessary steps to fall asleep on time and peacefully. Can’t forget that part. No technology after 10. Two 10mg melatonins. Light reading, followed by meditation, and a quick segue into uninterrupted sleep. Only it wasn’t uninterrupted because you made an appearance. Not a complete appearance because I’ve never actually seen your face. But I’m well acquainted with your beer stained breath, your fingers laced with a few callouses. And your voice. Cold, calm, and to the point.

“If you don’t scream, I won’t kill you.”

There were months where I didn’t say anything and pretended like that night didn’t happen. After all, you did say not to scream.

There was a year or two where I wouldn’t admit the complete truth, and provided only partial portions of the details. Couldn’t let the world know I had been tarnished.

But then there are days like today where I feel like I need to breathe. There are days like today, when I am reminded of why I had to scream. Why I chose to scream, and will continue to scream. Because if I don’t scream, it will gnaw at my essence and take stabs at my spirit. It will play ping pong with my mind and square-up daily with my sense of self-worth. It will tip toe across my soul in the heaviest of shoes and remind me what it feels like to be suffocated within my own thoughts, and what it feels like to be a prisoner to my body. The sleepless nights will continue, and my relationships will always suffer. I’ll find solace in alcohol again, or maybe an unrequited love again, or an eyebrow razor not being used for eyebrows again. I’ll pack up my shit and move and pretend that the physical distance has fixed everything. Again. And then I will actually lose my mind. Not for play, but for real teeter upon that thin line of stability.

You see, I had to scream. I just had to. Because not screaming, not making a sound, certainly would have killed me.

Phenomenal Yetti

This post is part of the Twenties Unscripted “Write Your Ass Off April”
10 day writing challenge. Word of the day: ROAR.

– Day 1: Surrender: When You Can’t Write
– Day 2: Confess: Before It’s Too Late (Sent out in the Extra Dose newsletter)
– Day 3: Heal: Leave It All On The Stage
– Day 4: Ignite: Don’t Confuse My Fire For A Fad
– Day 5: Complicate: I Come With A Lot Of Pieces. (Sent out in the Extra Dose newsletter)


April is National Sexual Assault Awareness Month.


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