beautiful rainy afternoon

When I was 4ish my mom was pregnant with my sister. Like a huge & ready to burst sort of pregnant. She wasn't really able to move that quickly and deal with an overly curious kid at the same time so it was up to my dad to watch me. This meant that I had to go with him on business trips.

He left me at his older sister's bar/bed&breakfast/rest stop close to where he was working.

I had a tiny bed in this hallway that had a small nook, almost like somebody was in the process of adding a second bedroom as an afterthought, but decided to quit halfway through.

One of his sister's sons molested me.

I still don't remember most of what happened til this day. That's actually a good thing. The details of the event could really fuck me up further than needed.

For the first time I can actually say that what happened did happen instead of just having a big white wall where that memory was.

I just remember feeling like I'd woken up with him getting off my bed with this feeling of total dread mixed with confusion and fear.

He stole the jewelry my parents bought for me (asians have a weird thing about putting gold & etc on their kids) off my wrists and I remember him saying "I'm borrowing these bracelets, [insert childhood nickname here]. Don't tell anyone."

Of course my parents found out he stole & tried to pawn the jewelry but nothing beyond that.

I've never told them.

I've never told anybody until now.

I'm not angry or upset. It happened so long that it seems pointless for me to be bothered by it.

However, just as a result of all the BS I am really afraid that I'll never be okay again.

Like something broke a long time ago and I wont ever be normal because of it.

The whole sex thing freaks me out.

It has always scared me a little bit and I really have no interest in physical contact with anybody.

I didn't even realize why til now.

And that's what happened.