Waiting to Let Go

By , Broken Arrow, OK
I hate you
I love you
You hurt me
You helped me
No.
You didn’t.
Not that I can remember.
After what happened
Before what happened
I was avoided
I was a plague
Your little sister
Twin to your brother
Of course
Male bonding
But then
When you took me to your room
Asked me for a favor
I was nine.
Yes, I said.
I didn’t know any better.
But you should have.
I still remember
Seven years later
You.
Lying on top of me.
Kissing me.
My big brother.
Our first five minute session.
You told me to keep it a secret.
Guilty conscience, eh?
You knew better.
You were curious
I was innocent.

Flash forward.
You get in the shower with me
Sneak in when the water turns on.
You kiss me again
Tell me to keep it secret.
Then you towel off and leave.

Forward again.
Our first five minute session.
Panties down.
You didn’t know.
I didn’t know.
you knew more than I.
But not how to go all the way.
Pathetic.
Wanting something
But unable to act.
I am thankful.
And again you say to keep it secret.
I do.

Flash forward. May 17.
Your birthday.
I have no present. I tell you.
You ask me for another favor.
I hesitate. But I comply.

A year and a half later.
I go to Mom
It’s midnight.
I think I’m pregnant.
I’m ten-and-a-half
I have not had a period.
Never had sex.
But I did not know of these things.
I cry. Mom knows.
I tell her.
She is disbelieving.
But what ten-year-old would come up with this?

Now.
I am sixteen-and-a-half.
I struggle with my sort-of secret.
You know. Mom and Dad know.
But it drags me down.
You do not speak to me.
You do not love me.
Not anymore.
I cannot let go.
It haunts me, drags me down
My perfect universe shattered.
I was fine
For three years
Or four
After telling Mom.
Then my BFF
Invited me over.
Also there was her cousin.
It’s late. She’s asleep.
And we, her cousin and I,
Hang in the living room.
He talks to me, tells me I’m pretty.
I snort, disbelieving.
He offers a kiss, but waits for me.
Does not broach.
I wait, plagued by indecision.
I walk to him. He kisses me.
And then...
Memories...
Come...
Back...
I stand from the chair
I sit where I was before.
He asks what’s wrong.
And I tell him.
He sits in silence.
“I’m sorry.”
But sorry doesn’t help.
I go to my friend’s room
And I sleep.
I am plagued.
I am a plague.
Happy when with people
But alone
I crumble inside
Struggle with depression
I play games
Conquer Spain on
Age of Empires.
I read books.
But
It’s still there.
The feeling.
The aching.
I am torn asunder mentally.
Emotionally.
I seek a release,
But remain whole physically.
I am afraid it will always be
Locked inside of me.

I remember.
I wait
For the day
When
I let it go.
When I heal inside
And when I breathe again.
I listen, wait
Take a breath
I sit here, waiting
Waiting to let go.





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This article has 3 comments. Post your own now!

just-a-sis said...
Oct. 17, 2011 at 12:28 pm
d concept of ur bro doing dis iz quite alien to me..... perhaps m jst too luky too hv d bro i hv.....bt still dre was a power in ur wordz.....it reacded me.....
 
been_there_done_that said...
Mar. 6, 2011 at 6:48 pm
wow........this is some powerful stuff. but i love you and this doesnt define you. i wish it didnt have to happen....i cried when i read this, and i never cry. ever. but this so hits home with me....you think you could have stopped it but really, you dont know better...its not your fault. i hope you dont think it is...
 
Nicovera replied...
Jul. 3, 2011 at 3:55 am
I know it's not my fault, and now I realize it wasn't his fault either. I've come so far along with the healing process. All my scars are fading. I'm facing my demons and staring them down. Best of all, my brother and I have talked about it, and are both working on having a better relationship. I know now I've forgiven him truely, from the depths of my heart.
 
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