I did not go to a funeral this weekend.
My molester finally kicked the bucket and finds himself in descent to hell or whatever suffering in afterlife the asshole deserves. Truth is, I’m not sure I believe in much of an afterlife anymore. But nonetheless, he’s gone.
The funeral was yesterday and family friends attempted to pressure both me and my sister to attend.
Now you must realize most people do not know what this man did to us — more especially, what he did to me,
Today I was speaking with a friend who said he was “floored” by what my sister told him about this wonderful outstanding citizen of the community. My sister refused to attend the funeral because of inappropriate touching of her. This came from the friend as to scold me for not attending the funeral, not in an understanding way.
I then went ahead and gave a brief overview of my abuse. At first, there was disbelief, but I think the margarine incident clinched it.
He broke down into tears and asked me to stop talking. And I was forgiven for not attending the funeral.
But tell me why I cannot sleep tonight. Tell me why it is on my mind?
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