Confessions

  When I was four or five I spent the night with my aunt who took me to a friends house.  I stayed over at the friends house.  The friend had a daughter that was a couple years older than me.  I stayed in her bed.  I remember the dark.  I remember she asked if I wanted to play 'mommy and daddy'.  I said ok.  She said 'I'm the girl' and she climbed on top of me.  I don't exactly know what happened after that.  I don't know how far it went, I don't think it was far.  I remember crying afterwards and begging my aunt to take me home...which she didn't.  I ate breakfast with the girl the next day.  I never told anyone about this.  I then remember the babysitters son a couple years later.  He was younger than I was.  I remember that he asked me if I wanted to 'play mom and dad'.  We got under the covers with our pants down.  His father walked in on us and asked what we were doing.  I had no answer. I still wonder to this day who initiated that.  Did I? Am I the sick fuck now?  I never touched another person in anyway other than the normal until I was 18.  When I was 18 I had a friend that showed me affection and loved me despite my obvious flaws.  I thought it was love.  I thought.  So when he got a girlfriend my fantasies were shattered and I ran away to Michigan, to a guy I met online.  I told myself and my family and anyone that listened that I had a boyfriend and I was super happy.  I hated every minute of that month.  I lost my virginity to a stranger.  I have always been able to lie to myself.  I can convince myself of almost anything.  I said I wanted to do it.  That's no lie.  Deep down I was cringing.  But something in me wanted to loved.  So I did it.  I was then stuck in this weird other universe for a month, pretending to be something I wasn't, acting like everything was fine. Lie after Lie after Lie.  When I came home and 'broke' up with this guy (he was 26 when I went down there) I told a friend.  I told her what happened.  She said that I had been robbed.  Men know when you don't want to.  She threw the Rape word in.  And even though I wasn't.  I went along with everything he said.  I didn't fight.  I clung to that word.  I feel guilty even saying that.  I know it's a lie, I can't fix my past by not owning up to my mistakes.  I was not raped.  Sure it felt like it.  But I willingly did what he told me to do.  I haven't touched another person since then.  I'm 30 now.  Almost.  I have fears like no body would understand.  Why don't I want kids you ask?  Well, obviously I'm fucked in the head and who's to say I couldn't molest my children?  I've been suicidal for about 12 years now.  But I love Jesus.  Or at least I think I do.  Not really knowing what love is.  I don't want to spend eternity in hell, which is surely where a person like me would go.  But I deserve what I get.  Who knows what I've blocked out.  Who knows what I've done.  Just today I asked someone why I was so unlovable and didn't receive a response.  Writing has always been my escape, my soul seems to bleed best with words.  Writing this has showed me why.  I don't deserve it.  I apologize sincerely to all those I have wronged.