I just sort of told someone about what happened to me when I was about 4. Actually not what happened, but just that something did happen. I told him I didn't know what I was going to do yet. He said he thought I should at least tell my dad. But I can't. I already had to tell him that one of his friends did stuff to me. I don't want to completely kill him. So then i had to go and lie down because I had a headache. Which I've had all day. Then I told myself what happened. And I wish I hadn't. Its not the worst thing that ever happened to anyone, but I really didn't need a full on reconstruction of it in my head. This is the first time I'd actually gone through the whole thing from start to finish and all this stuff just came from nowhere and added itself on to the story.
Now he's going to be home any minute and he's going to come up here and complain about me being lazy because I'm in bed. And I don't think I can even look at him without acting weird. If he thinks I have been crying he is going to ask me what is wrong and I can't even think of a good lie. Except that my head really hurts. I'm scared. Like really really scared from imagining it again and really scared about saying anything. Maybe I might tell him, I just don't want to be forced to do it right this very minute.