An Open Letter to My Abuser

To the boy in the Star Wars t-shirt:

You may remember my name but not my face;

and that's okay.

I was your first girl;

When you were angry at the world

and everything in it,

Including me.

I was the first to see 

Your sick, twisted idea of love.

To the boy in the Star Wars t-shirt:

I'm sorry I couldn't teach you to be kind.

I was the first to see

How deep your anger went.

I could have told you how wrong you were,

Yet I didn't make a sound.

Even when you went for that first slap,

I only flinched and stood there.

It was enough to make you pause,

But I could have said something more,

So I'm sorry.

To the boy in the Star Wars t-shirt:

I'm sorry I couldn't teach you respect.

I was the first to feel

Your unwanted touches

Your experimentation, because

You thought I wanted what you had to give,

When I was so terrified,

So afraid you'd get angry and hurt me

That I couldn't say no.

You never saw me after you left,

When I took cold showers

and clawed at my skin

To erase the feeling

Of your hands on my body

Because I couldn't utter a simple word

To make you stop.

And I'm sorry for that.

To the boy in the Star Wars t-shirt:

I don't want an apology.

I want to learn to live,

Not in fear of you,

But in spite of you.

I want to find a reason to continue

and forget the times you made me want to die.

Someday, I want my memories of you to fade,

So I no longer remember your face.

Someday, I want to be happy

Without your legacy to torment me any more.

For that, I am not sorry.

To the boy in the Star Wars t-shirt:

I hope someone teaches you kindness

and respect

and erases your twisted idea of love.

I hope someone replaces it

With a new idea:

One of beauty,

To erase your foul past.

I hope someday

You forget my name

Forget my face

and replace them with someone

You can respect in both mind and body.

I hope someday

You can finally grow up

and be the man you should have been to me.