Recently I had went back to one of my family members houses.
I remember going there allot when I was younger. And that house just so happened to be the same one I got assaulted in. After it happened I didnt really like going there. And I never went upstairs. And he never left his room.
But I felt the nagging gut feeling to go to his room. Part of me was terrified, I think it was morbid curiosity.
But eventually I did, he was in there, he just backed up. I looked in the room.
And it was nothing like how it looked when I was younger.
Part of me was expecting it to look the same.
To be transported back in time. To be that scared little girl again.
But I didn’t, it was an entirely different room and I wasnt scared.
The walls didn’t cave in and the floor give out under me.
I felt okay

The only thing that stayed the same was him. He looked the same just a bit bigger.

It felt like closure almost? Like what happened, happened. He will forever be proof of that. But its over now.
Whenever I hear people talk about closure they always talk about forgiving your abuser.
But I didnt want to do that. He didnt deserve that.

I feel like closure is forgiving yourself more than again tbh but everyones different

ALSO MY BEANIE BABIES CAME IN THE MAILLLL YIPPIEEEE