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Remember Jen, Remember.
Remember how you almost gave him your virginity.
The look in his eyes as he lay on top of you.
How all those years have passed but you still feel.
Remember, Remember Jen.
The past is always there.
Your mistakes you shall forever bear.
You cannot make them up.
You cannot redeem yourself at all.
Remember, Remember the pain you caused.
The pain you bear.
The pain you desire.

I told myself a long time ago that watching that movie was a bad idea. I knew that it unnerved me. Watchmen. I had watched it before in the dark. I thought that the part with the dogs upset me. I thought that it was the rape or the dark that had frightened me. I had forgotten the nostalgia that consumed me as well. It had been so strong then too, sitting on the couch that we had madeout on. Sitting in a place where I had fostered so many lies, where I had played with so many hearts. Where I had begun. Where I had destroyed something. I unleashed someone.

I've got a lot of regrets in my life. My greatest struggle will and always has been to deal with the guilt behind it all. People will say I was so privileged, what do I have to regret.... that is something to be guilty for. Others may say that I hurt them or brought them joy, and those are things to be guilty for too. I made sacrifices for both. Sacrifices that hurt me, that stunted me.... changed me.

For a while I want to remember. I want to hurt.

I remember my heart racing. The fast fluttering that makes you want to breathe out the hot air, to rid yourself the burning desire that fills up your lungs. Yes. That racing heart. And the pride, foolish pride of thinking he wants me so bad he can't stand it. He wants to push me over now and ******** my brains out. Teach me a lesson.... but I'm in control. All the while not really realizing you are in control. To play him. To tease him. To think it could continue as long as you want it to. God, such foolishness.

I remember the embarrassment too, a flush of realizing you were wrong or that it wasn't what you had thought it would be. Gods. It's terrifying. Like being plunged underwater without notice. You're so scared to take a breath, it might be your last. If you don't breathe you'll die. You need to breathe. Will you resurface or will you flounder a moment longer? Can you even last that long? We used to tremble back then. Tremble from desire, from fear, from nervousness. Sometimes I think about how I tried to take her down too. How when I looked down at her, I only saw some little girl. I didn't see a woman before me. I didn't think how helpless he was. I saw... how disgusting it was that I was touching her like that. And when men have tried to touch me, I think to myself how boring or Ugh.... Shame then fills me where embarrassment would have plagued me in my teens. Shame that I could be so naive and shame at how desperate I was to do something I wasn't ready for. Something that I did not want. Something that I wanted so badly that it was sinful. The duality ripping me apart. SHAME.

Shame that I felt alone in that experience.