Angel in Silence

"Some stories you can tell. Some you spend the rest of your life trying to pretend they never happened." Jerry Stahl

I've been having a lot of Missing Link days lately. Days where I just spend time alone and do whatever I want to do, just go wherever the day will take me, do whatever I think of right then and there. Just need time to think about my life, to think about who I am and where I want to go. Just need to give my heart the space she needs to breathe freely. Just need to let Life and The World point me in the right direction because I am too blind and too broken to know what to do next.

I ended one of my Missing Link days one night by ordering dinner-to-go at one of my favorite local restaurants. I had some time to kill while they prepped my chicken ceasar salad and cajun shrimp pasta, so I wandered around for a little while and plotted myself in a local art store. This is a fairly new store, but I absolutely adore it because is sells things only made my locals. I find it quite inspiring to occasionally check out all of this local art. That was my ultimate favorite thing at my last job, a local gift store carrying all kinds of personal & handmade things. I was continuously touched at how I could almost feel the artist's passion through his/her work... and it was even more rewarding when I met these artists in person. More often than not, every single one of them had been through some kind of horrific tragedy - something so life altering that they devoted the rest of their life to their art because it was the one thing that helped to keep them sane and human. I can relate to that.

Anyhow, I found these matted pieces of art with different sayings written around handpainted images. There were plenty left for sale, but only one was left with these words wrapped around a colorful handpainted angel:

In my dream,
the angel shrugged & said,
If we fail this time, it will be
a failure of imagination
& then she placed
the world gently
in the palm of my hand.

I kind of freaked when I realized this was the last one left with this quote. It was a sign. I bought this piece.

This is a story of my rape.

I am 1,000% certain I will never forget this moment the night I was raped:

"Is this why you kept feeding me beer?" I asked him. He boldy held my face with both hands and repeated he wasn't "like that" or "one of those guys." I couldn't fight him anymore. I was tired, broken, drained, exhausted. It was happening. My worst nightmare. And I couldn't do anything about it. I couldn't move. I went from being scared and tired to totally and completely limp and frozen.

I opened my eyes and looked up at the ceiling as he continued to take off my clothes and rape me. I couldn't beleive his touch was the first I would know. I just lay there, unable to move or make a sound. I wanted to call for Jill, my friend in the next room, but no sound came out. I was muted.

I don't want to cry, but the tears are starting to come.

THIS IS THE MOST POWERFUL, PAINFUL, HURTFUL MEMORY OF MY ENTIRE LIFE:

I looked up at the ceiling and saw myself looking back at me. I was dressed in white. White like cocaine. I was fluttering in place, holding myself there, watching my own rape. I had wings. They were white, too. Like white chiffon. I watched Jay rape me. I silently screamed at myself, my angel self, "Why is this happening?"

She replied only with a tender and reassuring smile: It's okay. We will get through this. She stayed there, fluttering, calm, smiling, watching Jay from above. Doing whatever he wanted, feeling like I was his right.

I was just floating there - angel like - while Jay raped me. I couldn't move. I couldn't make a sound.

The only thing I focused on during my entire rape was that angel. My eyes never left her. She was there for a reason.

I am certain this was the moment I disconnected from my body. Jay had my body now. He used it. I was damaged goods. I was trash.

One man's trash is another man's treasure.

I am a treasure.

A lost treasure.

I hyperventilated earlier tonight. That has never happened to me before. I have panic attacks. And nightmares.

I don't want to tell you any more stories about my life. There are too many like the ones your eyes have already read. But I cannot run and hide anymore. I cannot live in anymore fear.

LIFE = Living In Fear Everyday

I have run out of lies. So this is my truth. These are my wounds.

Time does NOT heal all wounds.

TIME BRANDS ALL WOUNDS.

It slowly and carefully makes my skin sizzle as the wounds fall deeper and deeper inside. I take shower after shower to put the fire out. But the salt from my tears becomes fuel for the fire. There is too much smoke for my heart to breathe freely... she is suffocating. I am branded:

R A P E D
A B U S E D
W A S T E D
A L O N E
S T A I N E D

My life will get easier. I will be happy. I will have a successful, healthy, bright and whole future. My past gives me the strength and courage to be an independent woman, a loyal lover, a trusting friend and a determined survivor.

My life will get easier. I will be happy. I will have a successful, healthy, bright and whole future. My past gives me the security and wisdom to be patient and aware, cautious and daring, giving and tender, alive and warm.

I am a lost treasure. I need my angel. But I have buried her deep inside with my dirty little secrets. I have to let her go. But what if she never returns? What if I never find her again?

If you love something, set it free. If it is yours, it will come back to you.

I have to set it all free.

I have to let it all go.

Dear God,
Please help me set her free. Please help her fly. Please let me rest tonight.