after the relationship ended

becoming i   CHAPTER 3

The pain comes back al­ways. The same feel­ing of beg­ging to escape. 

I made my­self be­lieve if I found some­one to show me love with­in that time and would not leave me there I would be okay. 

A year ago on Sep­tem­ber 5 he called. No, not the he from be­fore, but the one I had loved. 

The call came af­ter I fi­nal­ly fell asleep. 2 am. His call was to say “pick me up” as he got ditched downtown. 

A fight with him and his friends over want­i­ng to drink some more. At least this is what was said to me. 

I didn’t want to leave him drunk, a mess, down­town to get picked up by po­lice or stuck in an ac­ci­dent from drunk driving.

I ar­rived to see him and 3 oth­ers out­side the bar yelling at some girls he called skanks as he got in the car. They all piled in and as I head­ed to his house, the oth­ers ar­gued for me to be a ‘drop off ser­vice’ so they could dri­ve in­tox­i­cat­ed. It was an­noy­ing. I let it rest. 

We got back to his place at 3 am where we agreed I would stay be­cause of how lit­tle sleep I would get. 

I had work at 6 am. I laid down with only his t‑shirt on. It was no dif­fer­ent from how I al­ways slept. It sure wasn’t an invitation.

I lied there cry­ing. Stressed and hurt over all we had lost. Our re­la­tion­ship dis­traught and gone. It wasn’t want I want­ed, but what I want­ed was nev­er in the pic­ture anymore. 

As i was sob­bing, he pulled me on top of him which felt like an at­tempt to shut me up. As things pressed on I said, I can’t.

His arms tensed, pulled down on my shoul­der then my thigh as I press up to leave. He forced me down on him. I said no and as I be­gan to pan­ic I be­came more of a sad mess for the rea­sons that he did not lis­ten and I could not imag­ine the man I had loved putting me through this once again.

As I con­tin­ued to plea, he let go. I re­turned to the same spot curled into the fe­tal po­si­tion cry­ing from the deep­est pain I’d felt from be­fore in over 5 years.

He pulled me back on top of him. None of it stopped un­til he was done.
 
 

—al­ley scheffki

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

 
co
nti
nue
read
ing —

                   forward to  becoming i  CHAPTER 4  • • •
· · · back to  becoming i  CHAPTER 2

 
start over     al­ley scheffki’s  be­com­ing i  CHAP­TER ONE

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