You Will Never Know How Badly You Hurt Me


I was laughing outside on a hill with a friend, she faltered briefly in her voice and her eyes fluttered from my too beyond. She didn’t have to say anything I already knew why. I saw you out of the corner of my eye, another body in a crowd of so many strangers. There was a chance you might be here, I already had my plan in place. Ignore it. Enjoy your day. Repeat the mantra “you’re alright. You’re alright.” And so I did.

I returned back to the rest of my friends at our car. Grabbed a beer, grabbed a hot dog, put my arm around my boyfriend, joked with friends and continued on. As time passes though, the feeling slowly begins to steep through my skin and saturate my blood. I feel the lump swell between my ribs.

Remember your mantra. Repeat.

I turn and laugh again. “I love this song!”

The day goes on. More hugs, more beers, more laughs.

Soon I’m talking with a friend standing facing the direction I don’t want to be. I don’t see you, but I know you are there, through the crowd. I’m listening while they talk, but inside I’m screaming at you. Screaming over the loud music, screaming through all of the voices. I’m screaming to you to come and get me. Come on. Do your best! Screaming and crying out at the fact that you have no clue what you’ve done to me. Screaming out that you’ll never know what I had to go through. The therapy. The medication. The tears. The abuse. Yet you’ll only remember from your side but the one you’ll never know from my sight.

My brain is that of a raging bull, a boxer in a corner, ready to fight.

I feel it in my fists….walk by, walk by, walk by. Because If you just walked by and dared to look at me I could look back. I could snarl and glare. I could look at you and let you know how terrible I really think you are.

Yet I’m still smiling and laughing.

I could walk over, only 6 cars away. I could walk over and slap the drink right out of your hand look you in the eye and say “I hate you.”

I sip and laugh.

Kill them with kindness. Hurt them by not caring. Yes, I know those are the ways to make someone feel bad, but somedays I just want to scream. I want to become all the words you said I was anyway. I want to be insane just to get out all of the abuse to shoveled onto me. To shake off your words and your actions.

“Hey we are leaving soon to grab dinner.”

Instead though, I remain quiet outload, screaming in my own head. Screaming the screams, you will never hear.