I was 11.

I didn't know any better.

But I said yes... I allowed it to happen.

It's all my fault, I should've said no.

Now I am scarred and so are my relationships.

I was 12.

I tried to say no.

You seemed angry so I let it go.

I allowed you to do it, instead of taking control.

And now I'm stuck saying the fault is my own...

I was 13.

Terrified to say no, but too uncomfortable to say yes.

I did what I was told, I let myself stay in that mess...

You were pleased and I was scarred.

Now I'm wondering, if I should have told them all.

I was 14.

I finally got my own voice.

I told you know, knowing it was my choice.

I saw the anger in your eyes and my body shook, and I prepared to cry.

You left me alone after that for awhile.

I was 15.

You tried again.

I said no, never again.

You went silent and I still feared.

And on that day, I told someone of what happened.

And now I cannot bring myself to forgive the little 11 year old.

Even though I know, they didn't know better.

I trusted you and you betrayed that trust,

Now that iron trust has turned to dust.

Now, there is nothingk left to say that can repair the brokeness in me.

You knew better, you knew I wouldn't know it was wrong.

You knew it was against the law, and you did it anyway.

You knew it may scar me, and you didn't care.

You knew, and you knew, and you never thought twice...

And now I'm stuck living on a prayer, hoping God will forgive me.

And now I'm stuck, never able to fully trust.

Now I'm stuck carrying the weight of the past.

Now I'm stuck hating the 11 year old who was innocent.

Now I'm stuck, hurting all the time...

Now I'm stuck wishing I had never been born...

Because if I'd never been born, I couldn't have said yes...

she cries at night

because just when things started to get better

they got worse.

she cries at night

because she wonders

when her life will change.

she cries at night

because she loves someone she can never have.

she cries at night

because her heart hurts

to the point that it keeps her awake.

she cries at night

because i took her boyfriend

and left her friendless.

(i took her hope. i jumped on the pieces of her heart. i hurt her. i killed happiness for her. i ruined her life. i left her lonely. i did this to her. i did this to her. i did this to her. i am a monster.)

she cries at night

because of me.

(I'm so sorry).

Sheesh... I have a laundry list for this one:

I dated sisters once. (Oh, c’mon y’all! Not at the same time!) Still, it never plays well with Mommy, Daddy... or the first sister.

I entered an “Eat the Worm” contest once. They tell me it was a really fun night, but I‘ll have to take their word for it. I still can’t drink tequila thirty years later.

I asked a girl out in the ninth grade after she did a strip tease on top of Mr. Kessler’s desk when he left the room. Turns out, she WAS wilder than me, and dumped me because I couldn’t keep up with her. Hurts just as bad to have to tell you about it now as it did to live it way back then.

Just like in a bad teen movie, I once watched two girls get in a fight and pull each other’s tops off. It still hurts that I may not “entirely regret” not breaking it up.

I cried when Ol’ Yeller died.

(Remember that these all happened long ago), but I kissed my best friend’s girlfriend once, and I kissed my girlfriend’s best friend... twice ;)

I wouldn’t let a high school teacher put my assignment stories in the school paper because I didn’t think it was “cool”.

I wore the grooves off of a K.C and the Sunshine Band album while I was, “Gettin’ down tonight!”

I put my hampster in my sister’s Barbie Winnebago and rolled it down a hill. The hampster became a seatbelt statistic in the ensuing crash. I never told my sister how the hampster died. Poor Barbie!

Me and two other guys dressed up as The Andrew Sister’s and sang, “Don’t Sit Under That Apple Tree With Anyone Else But Me” in a gong show. We even rehearsed. (It was for a good cause)

Thank God it was all before cell phone cameras!

Prologue:

I hated her

Part I:

I resented

her perfect job

as a doctor

her perfect marriage

to a lawyer

But especially her

perfect marriage

You can call marriage

my Achilles’ heel

Part II:

For years

I completely

ignored her

because who the hell are you

to be so

perfect

to be married

Part III:

When it was already

too late

I wrote a letter

to her

and mailed it:

You are perfect

I can’t hold down a

man for more than

two weeks

and here you are

married

appreciated and

loved

Part IV:

I sort of regret it

but I did

call her perfect

Part V:

The truth hurts

but only for

one of us

I can’t say that I wish I never met him.

Because I know I was taking a risk.

The attraction I felt was unlike anything I had ever felt before.

On some level I knew there was no future.

But I fell anyway and made plans.

He inevitably broke my heart.

Looking back, I wish I had taken advantage of this chemistry to its fullest and left feelings out of it.