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Tuesday, March 6, 2012

RemembeRED -- Broken


We met in the local coffee shop. I got there first and sat waiting facing the door. She came in maybe five minutes later. She smiled her polite smile, chattering about the weather and asking if I wanted tea. I said no, and she went to get hers.

She settled at the table and sweetened her tea. I took the lead, because I had asked to talk to her. It was obvious she was in grown-up, teacher mode, while I was struggling with terror that bordered on hysteria. But we were polite, by god.

“I need to tell you something”, I said.

No response from her.

“I’ve remembered more about what he did. It went further. He raped me.”

She sat staring into her cup of tea for a moment. No response.

I asked if she believed me.

“No, I don’t”, she said.

“Why would I lie to you?” I asked.

“You’re upping the ante. You didn’t get what you wanted with your first version of the story, so you’ve upped the ante”, she said.

My control was shattering now. The tears began to fall. She was so cold; so calm. I don’t know what I’d expected, but it wasn’t this.

“What do we do now?” I asked.

“How do we have a relationship with this between us?” I wanted to know.

“I don’t think we can”, she said.

“That’s it?” I said.

“I don’t see any other way”, she said.

She sat calmly staring at me. No pain, no remorse, just a cold block of ice where I had thought her heart was.

“I will always be here if you change your mind”, I said getting up from the table and rushing to the door.

I struggled to my car, with tears streaming down my face. Somehow I drove across the street and parked in a different parking lot. I sat sobbing and shaking and wondering how it had come to this.

I pulled out my cell phone and called my husband. He promised to meet me as quickly as possible.

I called my therapist and told her what had happened. She offered comfort and peace, assuring me I had handled the situation as well as I could have. She said to call whenever I needed to and she would see me when she returned to town.

My husband arrived and got into my car. I turned to see his caring face.

I began to sob in earnest.

“I don’t have a sister anymore!”


link up at Write on Edge

4 comments:

  1. Compounded loss. The brokenness here is like layers of an onion....loss upon loss. It is so sad when people aren't strong enough to allow truth in. Peace to you...and healing.

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  2. Oh I couldn't imagine what you must have felt. I was shocked to read the last line. Very well written and delivered perfectly. I'm so sorry you had to live this though.

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  3. I have a huge lump in my throat - the tears are stinging my eyes. My heart goes out to you and your pain...hopefully by saying it out loud you will continue to heal. I am so sorry for this great loss in your life.

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