September 28, 2015
16:39
I saw the man who assaulted me about a year ago.
I saw him when I was in a group of people. I told one of them. I don't know what I expected. She couldn't care. I didn't know what to do. This thing was affecting me. My heart was racing and I felt small and brittle. I was just in this big dopey group. We ended up back there, by the assailant, by the stage. I detached from the group to get in touch with the girl I was looking for. I was on the phone with her when I realized he was directly in front of me. I hung up on her.
The man gave me a look of disgust, like there was some evil wrotten thing inside him bristling under his skin, disfiguring him.
I had been too scared to do anything before. Because I was thinking. This time, there was no time to think.
"Hey, you attacked me about a year ago, right?"
He stammered, giving an unconvincing incredulous what no
"Yeah, you did. You hit me in the head, and you maced me."
His friend seemed disturbed.
"Obviously nothing's going to happen because of all these people here. But that was a bitch move, and you should be embarrassed."
What I said depended on my anger, and then I was gone. I called my mom. she cared. I called the girl, asked if I hung up with her, mentioned it, she didn't care.
This was a big thing to me. Something that had been building in me a long time
Brought it up with someone I used to fuck. That person wasn't interested in having below the belt conversations with me, wasn't interested in that event either; she just wanted to know how school was going. That's what happens when you pretend to care about people, I suppose. You ignore their perversions, you ignore the beatings they've endured, and you ask about school.
What I gave him was not at all the beating he deserved, but I feel it was a confrontation that put him in his place, at least mentally, as a bitch.
And it took honesty and courage on my part.
Another friend cared.
keep regulating my nigga he said
so maybe it all evens out
after i saw the assailant the first time, i saw the blonde teenager i dated about three years ago, who things ended so terribly with, and as we passed each other, she gave me a shy smile that was practiced or not, and a wave through the crowd, and before i realized who she was, i waved and smiled back, a smile i try to give anytime i say hello, and when she was gone, i missed her.
despite everything else that happened between us.
and i can't make sense of that.
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