‘no hard feelings’

becoming i   CHAPTER 2

I spent Hal­loween 2009 at a par­ty he was at and I was com­plete­ly blacked out drunk.

I mean I was car­ried half way across town and I only re­mem­ber ly­ing on the ground at some point by train tracks. Every­one seemed so con­cerned but did they have a clue? No.

If they did would it turn into a fight of he said she said and who re­al­ly would of been on my side? No one. I didn’t see this guy again for a lit­tle over two years lat­er.

At this time I was in a re­la­tion­ship, moved back from Cal­i­for­nia be­cause lone­li­ness and stu­pid­i­ty dri­ving me back­wards.

We were at Round the Clock. A restau­rant every­one in our high schools went to just to oc­cu­py space and drink cof­fee. I re­mem­ber him com­ing around the group of girls. The same best friend I had that night sit­ting next to me. Every­one so hap­py to see him.

That’s who he was. He de­rived all the at­ten­tion from every­one. Fun­ny, an ass­hole, and every­body loved it. Af­ter the line of hugs he turned to me said ‘no hard feel­ings’ and once again with­out even con­sid­er­ing what I may of felt he touched me.

He gave me a half-heart­ed hug. And that was the clos­est thing I ever got to an apol­o­gy from this guy. I stayed at that restau­rant to just prove he hadn’t got­ten to me.

That no mat­ter what, I was still okay.

When I had enough, my boyfriend came and picked me up. He ar­rived in a fit of anger in the midst run­ning in­side in a rage. Which was al­ways fun­ny to me be­cause he hard­ly be­lieved me.

Rather in his mind, he couldn’t see right from wrong in any sense and be­lieved his friends that were best friends of my rapist.

I re­mem­ber say­ing to him that one day he will have this haunt him. That it was up to the uni­verse to han­dle this and me al­low­ing any neg­a­tiv­i­ty to out flow will only bring that upon me.

I will let the world, the uni­verse take care of the things I don’t be­lieve I should. This guy has a daugh­ter. And I ad­mit even in some pain and anger, I have let the thought of maybe he would fi­nal­ly know the pain he caused me if this same thing hap­pens to his daugh­ter.

I feel so dis­gust­ing to think that way. I don’t want any­one to ex­pe­ri­ence what I have. I rec­og­nize it as what it is.
 
 

—al­ley schef­f­ki

Flom­mist Al­ley Schef­f­ki is 22 years young, ‘I am the blue rose. Dies ist ein wun­sch für frei­heit.’ Copy­right © 2016 Al­ley Schef­f­ki.

 
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