It's October.

For the past two years, "it's October" has held two different meanings for me. One brings about happy images of pumpkin patches and apple orchards and beautiful fall leaves...and the other brings about images that I don't ever, ever, EVER want to see. But they come anyway. And today being exactly two years since it happened? I'm seeing them constantly.

I see it in flashes. The first is when I was walking downstairs with him. I remember thinking how fucked up I was because I could barely see the stairs or feel my body. Then I hear the door slam and I am being thrown. Then I am yelling and looking down and finding that I am naked. Then he says it. He says to shut up and act like I like it. Then the other one comes in. Then I am alone on the bed, sobbing. Then the voicemail I left Madison at 2am. "Madison, something terrible has happened. Please call me back, please." And lastly, driving to work the next morning, dizzy and nauseous, and realizing that there are bruises on my hands and that my mouth is bleeding.

And getting the morning after pill. And that terrible phone call trying to explain to Rachel what happened, only for her to instantly turn the blame on me and start publicly harassing me about being a whore and a secret slut. Not being able to show my face at work. And months later, being escorted by a counselor to the student health center to get tested for STI's.

Why didn't I stand up for myself and tell them that I tried to fight it?
Why did I just let everyone assume that I was a secret slut?
Why did I fucking take that pill at the party in the first place?
Why did I even hang out with those people?!
Why didn't I yell louder, push harder?
Why did I give up and just lay there?

I have no answers. And for that I can never forgive myself.

I just want to see them again. Is that sick? I just want them to show up when we're out in Old Town so they can see that I can smile despite their existence in this world. I PRAY that they walk in to Sports Pub and make a comment as they walk by so I can stand up to them and put them in their place. I want them to see that I can stand up for myself and that they better not mess with me. I literally watch the door when we're at Sports Pub, waiting for them to walk in. I play out the scenarios over and over.

I always tell people that there's a reason for everything, and that even the bad things can yield positive change. But this? I can't possibly see the good. Is it that I realized what scum those people were and never hung out with them again? Is it because it led me to Larry?

Larry. If that hadn't happened, I would have never met Larry. Because I stayed in my house for five months after it happened except for school and work. Because Jacquie told me I needed to return back to the world. Because boys were stupid and we needed a girls night. And suddenly, I was alive again.

But as alive as I have felt the past year and a half, there are still times where I suddenly get triggered into replaying that night, and I'm numb. My family might be half right about something: I'm not properly healed. But how do you ever fully heal from something like that? Let alone ALL of the other garbage I have to deal with every day?

And as important as it is to talk about this...I can't right now. It literally hurts way too much. I can't even finish my thoughts.

So if I'm distant, or extra jumpy, or start crying out of nowhere, or seem like something is wrong? Yes, something is wrong. I'm waiting for October to be over.