YOU HAVE NO IDEA WHO I AM
The entire time we were together whenever he looked at me he thought “You have no idea who I am” and he delighted in my innocence that he stole every single day, every time I told him how much I loved him, every meal I prepared just for him, every gift I bought just for him, every shirt I sewed for him, every sweater I knitted for him, every thing I did just for him. Every time I acquiesced to his will and followed his lead, every time I scrambled to assuage his unpredictable rage, everything I did to make him happy, every smile I gave him, every expression of affection I showed him, every time I catered to his whims, to his special diet, to his needs and wants, every time I built him up and made him feel superior, every time I helped him know what was appropriate when he did not know, every secret I kept for him, every crime I covered for him, every time I presented him to the world as a good person, a superior person, every lie I told for him; he delighted in and he reveled in his theft of my innocence, my love, my devotion, my compassion, my trust, my helplessness, my youth, my happiness, my individuality, my virginity, even my babies. All the while he thought: “You have no idea who I am.” He was right. I did not know.
c2019notliketheothergirls
Notice: The names in this story are fictitious to protect the request for anonymity.
