You may or may not (probably not!) have noticed that my activity and participation on this wonderful site has dwindled dramatically. This is due to being slightly traumatised by events that have occurred over the course of the past year... which then led to me realising that I’d been put through some pretty heavy shit before that.
Anywhoooo, long story short; I wrote the following as an outlet. It’s about an abusive relationship I was in. Please be aware that the language I use could potentially trigger.
**TW** **TW** **TW**
That doesn’t Matter
For the past year of my life, I’ve been smeared by my ex’s lies. It’s caused me to regress and become a recluse, even though I have nothing to hide. But I’ve become unbearably weary of being unfairly judged, so here I am to dredge my name from his poisonous mud.
Please, excuse the strong profanity in my closing lines, It’s a direct quote from my ex; he used it to explain why how he treated me was fine.
The cracks in our relationship turned into chasms late last year, little did I know a party would trigger what led me here.
He brought up a time I’d got drunk and emotional; accused me of wanting to flirt with others, he was irrational.
That doesn’t matter, because I just overreact.
He expected me to cause a scene, but I just walked away. He was happy to let me leave, alone- aware that I would try to die that day.
That doesn’t matter, because I just overreact.
I came home two days later, wanting to talk and full of hope. He’d already left to stay out with friends, said he’d learned from me that you run to cope.
That doesn’t matter, because I just overreact.
I asked him to come home because the overdose had made me ill. he said I had myself to blame, but a certain friend of mine would take care of me at my will.
That doesn’t matter, because I just overreact.
When he finally came home, he acted as if all was fine. I was relieved to not have another emotional mountain to climb.
That doesn’t matter, because I just overreact.
Certain friend invited me round for a drink and a chat, my ex was annoyed he’d had no invitation to that. I told him the invitation was open but I didn’t want to go. he said I was making mountains out of molehills; so off we went with emotional baggage in tow.
That doesn’t matter, because I just overreact.
We sat and we laughed but there was clearly an atmosphere, his following admission certainly cranked that shit up a gear. A mutual “friend” told him she thought I was cheating, but I wasn’t supposed to get worked up over the shit she was bleating;
Because I just overreact.
Night turned into morning & things became a blur, but in no way am I trying to justify what I’m about to share.
Certain friend was very drunk, I couldn’t leave him on his own. I said I was fine to stay, but that my ex could go home. I guided my friend to his bedroom- that’s when my voices started, when the psychotic episode stopped, I found our bodies had to be parted.
Ashamed and confused I ran from that place, terrified and winded by the consequences I had to face. I swallowed hard, I knew that his reaction would be just; I made the call to tell my ex that I’d broken his trust.
I sobbed, he hung up- I sobbed even more. I couldn’t stand how badly I’d fucked up, couldn’t pick myself up from the floor.
A few days passed, I suggested we take a break. The ex was adamant that was a step we didn’t need to take. I said I’d stay in my Mum’s but he wasn’t keen on that plan. He said I dint get to be the one to leave… because I’d fucked another man.
He made his arrangements for somewhere to stay, shouted at me for suggesting he should leave the house that day.
That doesn’t matter, because I fucked another man.
Before he lefthe asked for hugs and a kiss. I obliged- but nothing could prepare me for this… he forced his fingers inside me.
But that doesn’t matter, because I fucked another man.
He pulled me closer, demanded I tell him that my pussy was his. I froze and did what he wanted; I’d betrayed him so this reaction was normal, wasn’t it?
I deserved it, because I fucked another man.
The time he was gone went by in a haze; when he came back, I planned to stay in my Mum’s for a few days. But then I became unwell and needed my own space, so I climbed into my bed next to him- admittedly not helping my own case.
That doesn’t matter, because I fucked another man.
Yes, we kissed & we cuddled, we even caressed. But I knew it had to stop when he wanted me undressed.
That didn’t matter, because I fucked another man.
I faced away to sleep, I thought the situation was harmless; that’s when he reached to pull down my pyjamas. I was ill and weak, just laid there still- could barely move as he entered me against my will.
That doesn’t matter, because I fucked another man.
I mustered up enough strength to tell him no, he stopped… but stayed in me and lingered, because this was all at his say so.
That doesn’t matter, because I fucked another man.
He spoke to a close friend of ours and gave his side of the story, then urged her to speak to me- but only after he’d planted the seeds for her to play judge and jury.
That doesn’t matter, because I’d fucked another man.
She and I met the next day & spoke at length about the situation, she agreed with me that we were past the point of reconciliation.
She believed me, even though I’d fucked another man.
The ex became angry when I told him that we were finished, he was fuming that his side of the story appeared to have been diminished.
I shouldn’t be believed, I fucked another man!
He turned friends against me by fabricating information, wove a simple web of lies that pulled them into his delusion.
He probably won’t acknowledge this, or that his actions ruined us. I’ll direct the rest to him, though… just in case he does.
Well, dear, the time has come to tell people the truth... so take note. I WILL tell people about the time you put a knife to my throat. About the time you violated me when I was so drunk I’d fainted outside; you’d had me in your mate’s bed, you bragged about it with pride!
People will know that you manipulated me into having sex, you got off on the fact we were in the same house as my ex.
You saw me as nothing but a prize to be won, you couldn’t stand that you’d lost me when I said we were done.
I don’t expect any of my ex friends to listen, to them – like a polished turd- you shine and glisten.
But if I alter just one person’s perception of you, that’s fine, I’ll take what I can…
Because it needs to be known that I didn’t deserve any of the shit you did to me- before, or because I fucked another man.
*********************
Thank you for taking the time to read a part of my rawest, innermost soul.
If you’ve ever been through similar, my heart is with you. If you recognise any of the behaviour I’ve described in my poem, please confide in someone... it’s never too late to take back possession of your body, mind and sanity ♥️
