Love Is A Battlefield
Love Is A Battlefield. I heard this song on the way to the gas station tonight, and it brought me back to that time we sang it at karaoke for my birthday.
This is the true crime of rape by an acquaintance. If one survives the initial act, then that person has to deal with the constant reminders of when that person was in their life. Songs, places, foods. Something that will just hit you out of nowhere. Little things about that individual person that you knew as a best friend for 4 years. Baseball, Irish anything, Milk Bar, goth/industrial music, Kias, Littleton, Icebreaker gum or mints whatever the fuck you used to try to cover up your severe halitosis, Pete's Kitchen, Red Rocks, The Big Lebowski, Double Daughters. These are only the ones I can think of off the top of my head at this moment, god knows there are so many more.
Denver.
The one bad thing about moving back here is now I have to remember that this is the place that this happened to me. That you're still here. It's not enough to have kept me away, after all, this is MY fucking home, you don't own this city.
It has gotten better. The triggers get less with time, I've been working on building a normal sex life with my husband (so, so, so important, and it's been far more difficult than you could imagine).
I'm just worried about this 5 year anniversary coming up. I was expecting the fourth anniversary to be harder than it was. After all, I knew you for 4 years, so the fact that that amount of time had passed since we were friends, I was expecting it to throw me for a loop. Maybe it didn't because I was in Knoxville, I don't know. But 5? 5 years? Now it's officially been longer than I've known you, yet you're still with me everyday in my head, and in my body.
I just don't know sometimes.
This is the true crime of rape by an acquaintance. If one survives the initial act, then that person has to deal with the constant reminders of when that person was in their life. Songs, places, foods. Something that will just hit you out of nowhere. Little things about that individual person that you knew as a best friend for 4 years. Baseball, Irish anything, Milk Bar, goth/industrial music, Kias, Littleton, Icebreaker gum or mints whatever the fuck you used to try to cover up your severe halitosis, Pete's Kitchen, Red Rocks, The Big Lebowski, Double Daughters. These are only the ones I can think of off the top of my head at this moment, god knows there are so many more.
Denver.
The one bad thing about moving back here is now I have to remember that this is the place that this happened to me. That you're still here. It's not enough to have kept me away, after all, this is MY fucking home, you don't own this city.
It has gotten better. The triggers get less with time, I've been working on building a normal sex life with my husband (so, so, so important, and it's been far more difficult than you could imagine).
I'm just worried about this 5 year anniversary coming up. I was expecting the fourth anniversary to be harder than it was. After all, I knew you for 4 years, so the fact that that amount of time had passed since we were friends, I was expecting it to throw me for a loop. Maybe it didn't because I was in Knoxville, I don't know. But 5? 5 years? Now it's officially been longer than I've known you, yet you're still with me everyday in my head, and in my body.
I just don't know sometimes.