Aine

 Aine. 

I remember the feeling of my body in flight...

followed by the harsh landing, wrists aching from trying to catch myself

as I realize the table corner was barely an inch from my skull. 

I remember the fear that crept in,

scared to move not knowing if in his drunken stupor he would follow me across the room he just threw me.

He wasn't even aware he had touched me. But that's no excuse. 

I remember, years prior,

to feeling the same levels of betrayal at the hands of someone who claimed to love me. 

The emotional and sexual abuse from a woman who thought she could cure my sexuality if she could just force me to cum. 

The PTSD still haunts me from the shadows. 

I remember words from them both, chasing each other around in my head like a merry go round. 

"You are too much to handle and not enough to satisfy me." He said it his eyes void of any emotion other than resentment. 

"If you loved me, you would let me do this. Why can't you trust me?" she said as she pried my legs apart. 

But then I met you. 

It was you who saw my tears and told me that no longer would I be the victim of abuse. 

It was you who led my way to the path of healing. 

It was you who helped me to see my own beauty and appreciate the body that I have been given in this life. 

It was you who helped me accept myself. 

It was you who helped me reclaim my right to sex and love and acceptance for myself exactly as I am. 

Your fire burned away their cruelty, your waters calmed my fears and hurts. 

I remember who it was that pulled me from the darkness 

and into the hands of those who would see me for who I am and tell me that I am enough. 

Those words, for once, came from my own lips. 

It was you.