To my first love:

 

Just 'cause your dad went mad, and your gad made you shake...

 

Just because

God

was shoved 

down

your throat,

like a foul tasting medicine...

 

Just because you punched walls

until your knuckles bled,

and beat the ground

until your childhood baseball abt

was mutilated

beyond recognition...

Doesn't mean my body is cement or drywall

that won't hurt when you hit it.

 

I know you're sick.

I know your illness

was the root of this abuse.

 

I know the battles

in your mind

are always lost

because neither side

can come out victorious.

The fight between sensitivity and prife

is a bloody one,

like the mysterious case of Jeyll and Hyde.

 

I never knew who you truly were.

 

The only time I

ever put myself before you

were the nights where I read fairy tales,

drowning myself

in once upon a times

and happily ever afters -

each story like a bead on a rosary.

 

Like a prayer for the happiness I thought you would bring.

 

Handsome and strong,

your chiseled jaw as sharp

as the cruel words you spit in my face.

 

I just needed someone

to hold my hand.

 

The hand that so often

wiped away my tears,

praying that my makeup wasn't ruined.

Because God forbit

anyone know that

we had issues.

We worked so hard

to be perfect.

 

So when you took my innocence,

what could I do?

I had given up everything for you.

This was just the final sacrifice.

"No."

It was one simple word

that I uttered over and over.

I'm not sure if you couldn't hear me,

or if you just ignored my pleas.

 

You were supposed to be my future.

Forever and always.

Remember?

Everyone wants their first love

to be their last.

I was so willing

to go the rest of my life

taking a few extra minutes

in the mirror each morning,

so I could cover

the bruises on my throat -

even if that meant

spending a little extra money

on concealer.

 

Makeup is expensive.

 

What did I do to make you hate me so?

What wasn't I good enough?

My lazy eye, my poor fashion sense, my pixie cut.

My hair is longer now.

I got glasses.

And, gosh dangit, I love

my oversized sweaters.

 

Now I know

that I was the first

of many notches

on your belt.

I wish I could warn

all your future lovers.

"This boy is a monster.

He will chew you up and spit you out."

 

You know,

I was sad -

completely devestated -

when you broke up with me.

I just simply couldn't see

what I had done wrong.

But now I know

that I dodged a bullet.

You merely knicked my skin.

If you had stayed,

you would have found my stomach.

You would have penetrated my flesh,

mangled my organs

until I was on life support -

dependent on the drug

that was you...

Addictive,

but so unhealthy.

 

I want you to know

that I don't hate you.

Actually,

I want to thank you.

Because you taught me so much.

 

I can now recognize when someone treats me right.

 

I can now teach my future son to not be who his father almost was.

 

Someday, I will tell my daughter that a boy should never hit her.

 

They will know what rape is, and that it can happen with your significant other.

 

You've taught me how to prevent more people like you.

 

Sincerely,

The First Of Many