Take a Chance on Me

Every so often I wonder if there’s something wrong with me. I wonder why I’m still single, I wonder why I haven’t completely dropped all the weight I’ve been working so hard to lose, I wonder if I’m on the right track, I wonder if I’m doing the right thing, I just wonder about so many things.

I have been trying to read my Bible more and pray more, it’s gotten a lot better, it I wonder if I’m doing enough.

I have this compulsive need to fix everything and I don’t always know how or if I do, I don’t have the money.

There was a job that I was really interested in and 100% could have done, but they don’t think I have enough experience. The unfortunate part is I know that I would have done a fantastic job. And if they would have just given me a chance to learn, perfect my craft, and show them what I can do i know they wouldn’t have been disappointed.

I hate that no one can see how great I truly am.

Better yet, I have that no one is willing to see how great I truly am.

I don’t want to be alone forever. I don’t want to have to be constantly finding a job that pays more. I want something that will cover my expenses and my parents expenses easily.

I’m fortunate to have so much and I don’t take it for granted. Not one bit.

Choices

I’ve recently come to the conclusion that the reason why it’s affected me so much wasn’t the act itself, but the fact that my choice was taken away.

I know you’re probably thinking to yourself, “Well of course, I could have told you that from the beginning.” but no. You couldn’t have. Because you weren’t there. And you didn’t know the whole story.

It took another physical, not sexual, encounter for me to realize that indeed I wasn’t hurt by him sexually (well I was, but I wasn’t). I was hurt by the fact that things progressed too far too fast and I wasn’t in control of anything. It was all about him and his needs and not once did he realize that I was terrified. Not once did he ask if I was okay. Not once.

Yes, I made the choice to go back to his room, but he made the choice to not listen to me when I spoke.

I was afraid to admit that before the incident I enjoyed our foreplay because maybe that would mean that I wanted it, I didn’t. Let me be very clear, I did not. He was a great kisser and he was hot, and we had fun, but everything that happened after, I did not want. I’ve come to terms with being okay with the first incident, maybe, not really.

But, the sex. No. I did not want. I wasn’t ready and he knew that. He took advantage of me and he took the choice away from me.

He raped me of my choice.