![]() But I see the pain in his eyes when I push him away as the flashback comes, and he is unable to even comfort me because a single touch or word from him brings forth a panic attack from me. He is understanding, and has only ever treated me with affection and encouragement. At times, his touch frightens me, no matter how gentle it is, because I think of you and how you would touch me. In our most intimate moments, I think of you and cringe, turning away from him as if he were you. The man that I call mine is affected by your actions as well. My sisters watched as I had to hide the cuts, both the fresh and the scars alike, from my littlest sister with long sleeves and gloves that went up past the elbow. My brother tended to my wrist after I cut too deep. My parents bandaged my arms and washed my bloody clothing after I would cut myself because I felt so dirty and used from what you did. I had to be rushed to the hospital at least half a dozen times after suicide attempts. A family who tried so hard to encourage and support me were forced to watch me suffer. I'm not the only one who feels the consequences of your actions. Your eldest looks just like you.and because of that, I tremble with fear every time I see him. Now I can't look at a single member of your family without shuddering. Your daughter was like my sister, and I even had fantasies of marrying your sons to one day be a "true" member of your family. You took me to daddy daughter dances, taught me to roller skate and opened up your house to me to become my home away from home. I considered you a father to me, someone to replace the father who had died six years before your abuse began. You took more than my innocence, you must realize that. And when the memories did finally come back - starting as a trickle and then becoming a full flood of flashbacks, nightmares and panic attacks that still haunt me on occasion - it was a missing puzzle piece, a way to finally explain why I am the way that I am. I acted and felt according to what you had done to me, without even allowing myself to realize what it was. Even before I had the pleasure of dark memories, the consequences of your actions were already there. I wish I would have never remembered.but at the same time, I know that this would have done little, if any, good. These are the questions that have plagued me ever since I let my walls down enough to remember. Did you know then that you were changing my whole life with your actions? Were you unaware of exactly how much you would be ruining, or were you just so consumed by your lust and perversion that you were willing to rip me apart and shred any hope of a happy future? How could you have taken in a young child, gained her trust, made her like one of your own - and then steal her innocence before she even knew what it was you were taking from her? ![]()
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