“Hi, again…” It had been a long time since we had spoken (each caught up in our own lives and still trying to process the parts of the story she had already told) and today (perhaps because we were meeting in person this time), I could see the shadows in her eyes. Unlike before, today her eyes showed how much she was struggling. Shadows fluttered behind them like dark fairies slowly staining her usually strong exterior and demanding she address them.

She closed her eyes briefly then donned a rather bright (seemingly faked) smile and asked me the usual questions between friends. The more mundane things we discussed the more I saw her walls slowly rebuilding themselves. When she felt strong enough she sighed and with a roll of her gorgeous eyes she said, “Maybe, we should get the ugly part of this coffee date over with.”

Once again, I was entering the dark world of pain that tried to destroy this amazing woman in front of me.

She had a thoughtful look on her face then shaking her head she jumped into the story, “So we were speaking about my ex. Well, clearly he was a douchbag of note but that’s beside the point. Our relationship went from being my happy place to the place where my past was the deciding factor in every thing we did.

My depression only got worse (naturally) and his smug attitude and arrogance only increased. I was his charity case.

Around six months after we’d started talking about marriage, I realised he was cheating on me. He was secretly dating his “sister” (who was much younger than both of us and whom he had told me was just a friend and little sister to him).

My world tilted again.

Naturally, I cut her off here to express my rather unladylike thoughts on his behaviour and we each laughed it off. Mine a bark of anger for my friend and hers a bitter chuckle as she recalled the pain at that moment.

He avoided me. Or tried to and in that time, an old friend re-entered my life. I started hanging out a lot with my friends since my ex was hardly ever on campus any more. I never knew about the rumours he had spread or the things he had told his guy friends (who were also supposedly my friends)

One day we were all relaxing, waiting for lectures to start when my “friend” came up behind me and hugged me. He said he needed to talk to me and walked me around the car away from the rest of the group. Before I knew what was happening he had me pinned to the car and his fingers were shoving their way into me. I tried to scream but he kissed me hard and knocked the breath out of me.

When he realised I was bleeding, He pulled away and said, “slut,”

After that he simply walked away, wiping his hand on his black pants like nothing happened.

I stood shaking for maybe a minute then took off running and locked myself in the nearest bathroom I can find. My best friend found me curled up on the floor an hour later still shaking and crying…

I stared at her utterly gobsmacked at this revelation of events. What do you say to someone who has been broken, kicked down and then walked over again. How do I even begin to console her? Do words that are strong enough exist to heal her broken soul?

She whispered, “There are no words you can say to stop the bleed.”

And my heart broke for her.

Again.

But then she flipped her hair, took a sip of coffee and looked me dead in the eye, “I could have given up then and there. I know my reputation was in tatters and that I was stained forever but I refuse to be the victim forever. It took me a while to pull myself together but I did.

I finished off the year with all A’s and graduated Cum Laude…

I figured I would just marry my work and gave up on the whole love thing and then my fiance stumbled into my life, knocked me off my feet and caught me.

It’s been six years and I’m learning to love again.

Slowly….”

She had a wistful look in her eyes as she drank the last of her coffee, leaned over and whispered,

“Love is so strange…

Don’t get me wrong, I still have panic attacks. Small things like tickles or cuddles sometimes still make me cry and terrify me, Random spots on my body are still a no go zone when it comes to holding me and intimacy will always be a struggle for me…

But, in the short moments of reprieve, when we share a kiss or he holds my hand tenderly and meets my eyes with a tentative smile on his lips and love shining behind his eyes, I realise that this is exactly where I am meant to be….

It’s all part of God’s Plan, I suppose…”

After we said our good byes and I walked back to my car, I realised  that unlike the age old adage about time, some wounds will never truly heal. Some things even time itself is struggling to deal with but life will go on and love will seep into the cracks…

Watching Love Heal The World,

Brokebella

A note from the girls behind the story:

I was broken, battered and bruised. My life though not what I would have 
planned for myself is still my life and so I fight. I fight each day to wake
up, get out of bed and be productive.

I may be a victim but I am not a pawn in someone else's game. My attackers
are monsters but they hold no power over me any more. Their actions do not
define me. I am more.

My message to anyone who has been defiled and violated as I have is to 
always remember that you are the stronger and bigger person. You survived 
the ordeal so you will survive everything else.... And lastly, you are not
alone.

Yours Always,
A Healing Victim