she was such a beautiful and talented actress that brought to life so many iconic characters, and from what the people around her have said, she seemed like a kind and powerful soul. she made everything she was in better, and she will be missed tremendously. rest in paradise helen mccrory
Hace días me empecé a sentir como la puta mierda, detesto ese dolor y constante opresión en mi pecho. Quisiera que alguien se diera cuenta de lo mal que estoy y me abrazara, pero nadie esta….
No te disculpes, la verdad no sé que esperaba de alguien que un día me demostraba que me quería y al otro ni me miraba. La única persona culpable soy yo, por idealizarte y pensar que podrías brindarme al menos la mitad de lo que yo te brindé.
Al final ni tú ni yo supimos cómo funcionar. Éramos muy inestables e inseguros. Nuestros problemas siempre los pasamos solos, por miedo a preocupar y molestar. Nos cansamos y, a pesar de que nos quisimos, no sirvió de nada entendernos bien, al final no encajamos. Por eso terminamos.
You ever have this feeling of being… alone? I am currently at my own appartement… and I have this feeling.. i’ve made a huge mistake… like I think about my family and friends.. everyone of them is happy and have their own life and found their soulmate… and then here I am… feeling alone and depressed… overthinking everything… thinking I am not good enough… even thinking about how writing my family could make them annoyed with me… I am a huge mess …
that night would be in my memory, in my soul for all my life? That for you it was a great night, for me it was a blank space that started filling with heart-ripping memories that i’d keep forever? That i cried myself to sleep for months after that. That i had to cut my hair so i could pretend i was another girl, a new girl. That for weeks i showered several timea a day and scratched my legs and arms and belly till they bled. That my skin didn’t feel mine anymore, that i didn’t belong to mysef anymore. That i trusted you, and now i can’t even see you in the eye and the only thought of being alone with you terrifies me to the point of having a heart attack. That i had to get away of every relationship i had at that time becausei couldn’t be touched without feeling your hands. Those hands that took everything without asking for permission. That i have to live with this for the rest of my life, pretending that it’s okay, and that it was a mistake. Thinking that it might have been my fault, because i flirted with you, or because i danced or sat too close, because maybe i shouldn’t have been there. That it is not considered rape because i didn’t say ‘no’ or fought you, because i was under the influence of some drug, some drug you poured into my drink. That everytime i see you i want to cry. That i am ashamed to speak up because i am afraid they’ll call me a slut or stupid. That after two years i still want to puke at the very thought of that night. That i am still a little broken, a little ripped. That sometimes i can still feel your touch and i can still hear your laugh… That i’ve repressed every memory of you i might have, but i still cry about it on some drunken nights. That i hate you with all my guts for making me feel like i was anything else but mine… but i am not yours. i AM mine. i might still be a little broken, a little damaged, but i am mine, and i am fixing myself.
And i am still afraid to open my mouth, to let the words spill… “why didn’t you say something before?” - i was ashamed. My friends asking how it was, me asking “why didn’t you stop him?” -“i thought you wanted it”. i wanted to scream “HE RAPED ME!!” i still want to scream “IT WAS RAPE!!” because it was. and it won’t stop being rape, no matter how many years pass.
Now i am years older, years angrier.
The thing about rape is: it never goes away, it always stays, it leaves a little seed just to remind you that you were touched, that you were played with, that a little part of you was taken and it will never be given back. but its ok. i am ok.
