You have no idea what you mean to me. You say you do, but i doubt it sometimes. Before I had you in my life, I had nothing but anger, shame, confusion in my life with nothing to look forward to, cept for the day when I die and all the memories stop haunting me. Your love brought me a glimmer of hope, and for the first time since I was 10, I remembered what its like to be happy.

You were patient with me when I didn't want sex in the beginning, though I could tell you were getting more and more frustrated as months went by...... I saw the pain in your eyes as you believed that my not wanting sex was because I was not physically attracted to you. I told myself I would have to give in, thats the only way i knew to get rif of those doubtbs in your head.

It was hard. I gritted my teeth, many times almost wanting to push you away and just run away. It reminded me too much of what happened to me.But my love for you had me enduring it all the way till it was done. You seem really happy, and i had to force myself to smile, not wanting you to think I didn;t enjoy it.

Things seem to go well for a while.You always wanted to fool around and was puzzled by my less than enthusiatic " performance " All I could say was that I was just tired.

That fateful night I woke up in the middle of night, finding you inside me. I panicked when i realised my hands were tied to the bed post. I begged you to stop, but wasn't sure you heard me as I wasn't able to make myself clear. My mind was overwhelmed with images upon images of what those men did to me, and it felt like I was back when it happened. When you finishes, you untied me, and told me I was great. You were shocked when you hugged me and I started crying like a baby, shivering non-stop. You seem really scared and kept asking me what was wrong, if you had cause me pain unknowingly.

And I told you.....

about how my stepdad raped me when I was 11.
about that time when he brought 2 friends back, how he held me down when I tried to run, and how he cheered them on while they took turns to fuck me. about how he later tied my hands to the bed post and had his turn while his friends watched. about how it was like hell those 4 days for me, being tied to the bedpost, about they had fun with me anytime they wanted. about how he threatened me to keep it our little secret and not tell mom who would be returning from her trip. I was only 14 then.... I told you how he would have his way with me whenever he has the chance, and that it didn't stop till I was 15, when my mom divorced him. I told you of how I seek help and counselling from Pastor **** when I was 17, after being in church and knowing him for 3 years, when I felt I could finally trust him. I told you how he would have me go to his house to spent the night there, where he would spend time talking to me, being like a dad and making me feel safe for the 1st time since it happened. I told you of how he touch me one night when I was asleep in his bed. How he was whispering sweet nothings as he entered me. How he reprimanded me when he's done, saying that I was too weak and that he could see I enjoyed it. About how it happened everyweek after that. That he says that he needed to do it till i learned to hate it, and that proof would be if I didn't cum when he fucked me. But he always made sure I ejacuate before he does.

I told you of how when I couldn't endured it anymore, I left church, swearing never to trust anyone again. How I buried everything deep down inside and tried to be as normal as other normal people. I told you everything that night and was touched deep in my heart as I realised you were weeping for me. You hugged me real tight and rocked me like a baby, telling me that everything would be all right and you'll protect me from now on. I fell asleep in your arms that night, feeling safe again......

We never talk about it again.
Life went on and things went back to normal, You tolerated my sudden mood swings at times, understanding when I didn't want sex sometimes.

But your frustrations is starting to show lately. I know you are sick of how i could be hot one day, and cold the other. You woke me up one night, saying I was thrashing and mumbling in my sleep. I had one of those nightmares again. I needed to talk, but you look uncomfortable and told me I should not talk about it, that I should just forget it all ever happen and gets on with life. You then walked out of the room and slept on the couch that night, leaving me alone in the room, unable to sleep, feeling that i've done something wrong...

I know you'll never get to read this letter. I know how you disapprove of me talking about what happened, visiting sites like these, believing that they do me more harm than good, as they prevent me from....forgetting? So I have stayed away, and started keeping things to myself again, believing that if I try hard enough, maybe i'll forget..

I just want to say sorry to you...... to say sorry for all those things that happen... to say sorry that you found out that you were not the first man to have me...... to say sorry that i'm a unclean person.... to say sorry that you have to bear my burden....