#i will start sobbing hysterically i JUST watched FOUR TWENTY-MINUTE FIVE ON FIVE PERIODS OF OVERTIME HOCKEY | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

blushloi-blog · 5 years

Text

On Our Own (BoRhap!Roger Taylor x Reader)

Summary: you and roger broke up two months ago and it‘s been hell for both of you

Note: SO MUCH ANGST. HOLY SHIT. SO SAD. also i didn‘t proofread this and it‘s 3am so sorry girlies

Listen to On Our Own by Bruno Major!!!

Words: 2300

It’s been two months.

No goodmorning or goodnight kisses, no late night conversations, no long, loving hugs.

No I love you‘s.

You slowly stopped your alarm clock from ringing, blowing your messy hair out of your face while sighing. You dreamt about him again. It was always the same, you waking up with a tear stained face, wishing he was there to hold you, to tell you it was going to be alright. But he wasn‘t.

„This isn‘t working,“ he slowly said, before giving you the most heartbroken look ever. Your heart dropped. „What isn‘t working?“ All the anger you had felt over him coming home piss drunk again faded at that exact moment. You were just sad.

„This hasn‘t been working for a long time now, we were just too scared to admit it,“ he added, voice breaking and looking down, not being able to face you.

You understood what he was trying to tell you. Trying to come up with anything to say, you opened your mouth and just closed it. Tears welling up in your eyes, falling down your cheeks, you tried to process the words he had just said.

„Just pack your bag and leave,“ you said.

„I‘ll always love you-“

„You won‘t. Please, just go,“ the last words just came out like a faint whisper. You were too scared you were going to sob any second, making yourself look vulnerable in front of his eyes.

He wanted to say something. But he didn‘t.

Half an hour later, you heard the door shut.

Today marks exactly two months since you last spoke to him. You haven‘t seen him since - he was probably at his mum’s place anyway.

There was so much you wanted to tell him. So much you should’ve said.

You sometimes blame yourself more than him for leaving you. You sit in your car, randomly at 3pm, and his face just comes up in your thoughts. And you just wish you would‘ve showed him a little more how much you loved him and cared about him because it really hurt.

Feeling like utter shit has turned into a daily routine. You weren‘t sleeping, eating or just living well, all because you terribly missed him. You missed his witty jokes, his terrible cooking skills, the way he’d run his fingers through your hair when you fell asleep on his lap, his glowing green eyes when he told you he loved you more than anything in this world.

He was right at a certain point; Things had changed while you two were still together. After the second year your relationship had started to become more of a chore than a blessing, him coming home as late as possible and hoping you were asleep and not up, waiting for him to come home.

But now you know that you two did love eachother, even if it didn’t seem like it. You two took your relationship for granted, thought that you‘ll always be there for eachother, no matter what.

But just like a flower that isn‘t cared for, your relationship started to wither.

Pushing all dark thoughts away, you decided to clean yourself and your apartment up a bit before going out for a walk; something you two usually did on a rare, free day of his, if he wasn‘t touring or rehearsing.

Sighing again after you had managed to take a shower and put a tiny bit of makeup on, you put on your jacket before heading out. The air was crisp, but not necessarily cold. It was early spring, the sun was barely out and the flowers just started to show up again. You smiled melancholically, knowing spring was Rogers favorite season.

„Why, though?“ you laughed as you put another grape in your mouth.

„It‘s not too cold, or warm, pretty flowers and sunshine everywhere. How can you not love spring?“ he asked ironically as he sat down next to you, flipping through the magazine that you had thrown on the couch in your living room before turning your attention to him.

„Autumn is so much prettier. The colors, the fashion, Halloween, I get warm inside just thinking about it.“

„Alright, alright. Spring is still better, though.“

„It‘s not.“ You shrugged before giggling as he raised his eyebrow playfully.

„Just wait until next spring. It‘ll be your best one yet, I promise you that.“

You started to walk, not caring where you would end up. There was a lake about fifteen minutes away from your apartment - only your apartment now - so you just decided to go there. Get your mind off of things a bit. Throw a couple of rocks into the water, listen to crickets or any other insekts make various sounds, sit under a, now blooming, tree, feel the sun tickle your nose. You didn‘t quite realize you were just planning on repeating things you used to do with Roger, so whenever you thought of them, you‘d just think about you doing them by yourself - and not with him.

But nonetheless, you went to the lake.

There were a couple children playing in the park near the lake, and you couldn‘t help but smile again.

„Ten of them,“ he said and started laughing as you just sat there, mouth wide open.

„You‘re joking,“ you just retorted.

„Just think about it, ten little Rogers and (Y/N)s running around. Imagine how cute.“

„You‘re not the one having to carry and push out bloody babies. Three, period.“

„Five.“

„Three.“

„Four.“

„Three.“

„Three and a half - Wait, no.“

You furrowed your brows before falling into a pit of laughter, him joining you right afterwards.

Sitting on a bench, you grabbed a couple rocks from the floor and threw them into the water, not even caring how many times they‘d jump back up. Your mind was constantly on him, how being with him felt, laughing until you could barely breathe, the way his thumb did that little moving thing while holding your hand, the way your head rested on his shoulder, the way he used to rub his hands up and down your back whilst hugging, watching him blow you kisses from the stage - his lips on yours.

It was all so near, yet so far away.

Caught up in your thoughts, you hadn‘t noticed someone was also throwing rocks into the water now, the rock bouncing up and hitting the surface of the water about six times before sinking.

Turning your head to the side, you held your breath.

„Roger,“ you simply whispered, already holding back tears, blinking vigorously so they wouldn‘t fall.

„Hi,“ he breathed out, not knowing what to say.

You didn‘t really notice - or care, for that matter - the bags under his eyes or his sort of worn down state. To you, he looked as beautiful as ever.

His eyes weren’t glowing, though. They were sad.

„Why are you here?“ you just asked, trying to start a conversation. Out of all places, he was here.

„Was just around, you know I love this lake.“ By that he meant he was hoping to see you here.

After what felt like a thousand years of silence, he threw another rock in the water. „How are you? Are you eating well? You look a bit thinner,“ he said and gestured for you two to sit down on a bench, and so you did.

„It‘s been good, have just been going to the gym a lot more, you know,“ you lied.

„Oh, that’s good. You remember when I tried to drag you along once?“ he asked and let out a faint chuckle.

„Please, no,“ you whined as you two entered the gym.

„This is going to be so much fun,“ he stated before turning on the treadmill.

After twenty minutes of running you were a heavy breathing mess, deciding to just watch him work out the rest of the day.

„Love, this is too easy,“ he breathed out as you sat on top of him while he was doing push ups.

„I can see that,“ you sarcastically said before laying down under him, him pecking your lips every time he did a push up.

„Didn‘t you break your record for the most push ups your ever did in one sitting that day?“ you chuckled too.

„Certainly did.“

„How are you, though? You look a bit skinner, too. Guess your cooking skills haven’t improved, have they?“ Trying to lighten the mood, you hadn’t noticed a tear streaming down your face. Roger noticed, though.

He hated it.

„Good, good. I‘m staying with Freddie now until I, you know, get a place I like. That man has a whole room for each one of his cats, it’s bloody ridiculous.“

„Well, Delilah is a subtle woman in need of her beauty sleep,“ you said in the most Freddie-like accent you could possibly imagine, causing him to laugh out loud at that.

„Why on earth does this house have so many rooms?“ Roger stated as he went to open countless doors, revealing other rooms behind them. He was holding you by your waist, you two tagging along as Freddie frantically waved around, trying to show you two everything you needed to know about Garden Lodge.

„Darling, the cats - they need their own rooms. When you and (Y/N) have little ones running around, you‘ll want to give them their own spaces as well,“ Freddie simply answered Roger. You blushed at him mentioning you and Roger having kids, and he just smirked at you before slightly grabbing your butt, something he always did.

„I agree with Freddie, love,“ you said as you went to pick up Delilah, your favorite, lightly scratching her behind her ears, making her purr. Roger smiled.

„Delilah is a subtle woman in need of her beauty sleep. I mean, just look at her!“ Freddie practically screamed as you and Roger started laughing hysterically at the use of his words.

„They miss you, terribly,“ he said after calming down a bit. By that he meant he missed you terribly.

„I miss them, too - so much.“ By that you meant you missed him too, so much.

„Make sure you visit them sometime.“

„I will, just need to sort out a few things before, you know.“

Silence again. It was agonizing, you not being able to just sit on his lap and play with his hair at that very moment, or lie on the grass, his head on your stomach, having a picnic.

Both of you wanted to say something, to let eachother know how much you still wanted eachother - how much you still loved and cared for one another.

„Hey, hey, it‘s okay, Roger, look at me, it‘s going to be okay,“ you repeatedly said as you held his face in your hands, his shaky breath after an anxiety attack making you want to cry yourself. It was their first big gig, after their new album reached number one on the charts, and he was scared shitless.

He immediately felt safe at your touch. He looked at you as if you were his world. His savior. The one he wanted to spend the rest of his life with. And then, he thought about what you once had told him: „Say it before you run out of time. Say it before it‘s too late. Say what you‘re feeling. Waiting is a mistake.“

So he said it. „I love you.“

Taken back by that, you just started grinning as you felt your eyes water. It was the first time he had ever told you he loved you. You two weren‘t even dating at that time, had just been going out for about three months or so.

„I love you too. Now go out there and crush it,“ you kissed him.

But it seemed like he was doing so well without you, and you so well without him - so you both didn’t want to ruin that, even if it meant having to spend the rest of your life without one another. The fact that you were so skinny was because you were too sad to even eat, and him being too worn out to wake up in the morning without seeing your cute little face was overlooked by the two of you, being blinded by the pretentious behavior you were holding up.

„I should actually go, we‘ve been working our asses off on this new record-“, he started.

„Yeah, me too. Work and all.“

He stopped talking, giving you a sad smile before standing up and you doing the same. He slowly but surely wrapped his arms around you, you almost starting to cry again as you smelled his cologne and cigarette smoke scent, the one you loved and missed so much. You wrapped both your arms around his shoulders, giving him the tightest hug you had ever given anyone. None of you wanted to let eachother go, but you did.

His eyes were glossy and slightly red, you could see that. „Ah, shit- Allergies and all,“ he tried to cover up his crying and let out an awkward laugh. And you, you idiot, believed him.

„It was really nice to get to talk to you again, Rog,“ you just said before looking down, scared he‘ll see the tears daring to drip down your cheeks.

„You too, (Y/N). Take care, alright? Make sure you come by Garden Lodge sometime, please,“ he rubbed your shoulder to give you a sense of comfort. He wanted you to know everything was going to be alright.

„Yes, I‘ll try. Take care, Rog.“

That was it. The proper goodbye.

And with that, you two started walking away from eachother. Craving eachother, wanting eachother, loving eachother more than you ever did.

100 notes · View notes

ticklishtoddler · 7 years

Text

Tell Me 5 Things...

A/N: wow why am I being so productive with fics goodness. It’s a blessing. ANYWHO. hope you like it~ <3

Word Count: 1301

Pairing: Steve x Tony

He hadn’t been the same really, not ever since that night. What night? Well that night of course! The Void..dark and cold. He thought he was going to die honestly, but he knew the risks of his actions and was willing to die. But he didn’t. That, that is what haunts him. Dying didn’t seem scary no, living with what he had seen and felt when he thought he was going to die? That’s what’s scary. It had given him great anxiety, and he was on edge for weeks afterward.

Sure, sure, you’d be a little panicky if you almost died. But not Tony, he was having nightmares, panic attacks that felt like heart attacks sometimes. He felt like the fear from even thinking about that night could kill him.

“Jarvis? Jarvis, check vitals.” Tony panted out, clutching his chest, what was happening?

“Yes, sir. Vitals seem stable, sir.”

“Is it a heart attack? Am I old?” He groaned out, his breathing labored.

“No, sir, I believe what you are having is a panic attack. A quick scan of your brain shows extreme levels of fear. It’s possible, since this has been occurring 4 months after the Void, you could have PTSD, sir.” Jarvis said.

“No, no. That’s not possible. I know what PTSD looks like, I don’t have PTSD.” He denied.

“Sir, plea-.”

“Call Steve, he’ll know what to do. Now!” Tony barked out, feeling like the panic was now consuming him, like his lungs were collapsing.

“Hello? Tony?” Steve answered.

“Steve.” Was all Tony was able to get out, he was desperate now, now that he knew someone other than a robot was listening to him, he felt like now he could get out all those emotions and someone would come and help him.

“Tony? Hello? Are you okay?” Steve asked, sensing something was off, and Tony didn’t make his usually ‘wow such an oldie figuring out how to use a phone finally’ joke like he always did.

Tony didn’t reply, he just started hyperventilating, sobbing now. He could hear the phone hang up, and he felt helpless. But within twenty minutes Steve was right beside him.

“Tony? Jarvis, what’s happening to Tony?” Steve said panicked, watching the older man shaking in and crying hysterically in front of him.

“It’s a panic attack.”

“Oh, Jesus, Tony.” He whispered, the poor man couldn’t catch a break could he?

“Tony, Tony. Can you look at me, babe?” Steve asked, but sighed because Tony didn’t look at him.

“Tony, tell me 5 things you see around you. Just five things, anything.” Steve said, rubbing his back slowly.

“Uh, uh, uh…My suit.”

“Four more.”

“You.”

“Three, you’re doing so good.”

“Uh, a table with my tools.”

“Yes, good. Two more.”

“The ground. So cold, lifeless..” He started to hyperventilate again.

“No, no. Tony, last thing, what is that last thing.”

“M-me.”

“Good, good job. Now, what are five things you can smell?”

“Ste-.”

“Smells, Tony.” Steve said affirmatively, but gently.

“For starters, you.” He chuckled softly, making Steve roll his eyes.

“Uh, bread. Bread? There’s no bread, oh God am I stroking out too?”

“Tony, babe, three more.”

“Oil. From…the, the suits.”

“Um…your body spray?”

Tony seemed to be visibly calming down, which made Steve relax a bit. Soon, they finished with the smells, and then moved onto 5 things he could feel, which of course was how they always calmed Tony down originally when he was stressed or crying.

“Tones, 5 things you can feel, are you okay with that?” Steve asked, knowing sometimes this isn’t always what Tony wanted to be calmed down.

“Yes.” And it began.

“Tell me 5 things you can feel.” Steve said, gently tickling the man’s ribs, causing him to fall onto his back giggling, Steve’s fingers only following.

“Tihihihickles.” He said, not even attempting to move Steve’s hands, as if he even could.

It wasn’t new to Steve that Tony loved being tickled, it was a common thing between him and Tony. If fact, Tony is actually very upfront about it, and asks nearly every time him and Steve are alone. Of course, Steve, happily tickles the snot out of his boyfriend because it makes him happy. That, and he realizes how much it means to Tony. One time Tony didn’t get tickled for two weeks, and in that time period he cried almost every night due to nightmares and flashbacks. It literally calms him. It’s his coping mechanism.

“4 more.” He began to spider up to Tony’s underarms, and Tony put his arms up himself, making Steve smile.

“Spihihihider tihihickles?”

“Yes, good job babe. 3 more.” As the number gets lower, the tickles get a little more pressure, so he went to his neck, scratching and wiggling his fingers on the skin there.

“SHIHIHIT!” Tony screamed, but looked up, trying to not block Steve’s fingers from tickling him.

“What’s this babe? Tell me, come on.” Steve encouraged.

“I DOHOHOHON’T KNOHOHOHOW.” He laughed, his smile bright, honestly he felt like he was so happy, as if the fear washed away. God, he loved tickling so much.

“Hm..maybe we should try a different spot. I’ll give you a pass to only say 2 more, and then we’ll continue if you want.” Steve informed him, switching now to tweak his ribs, but then decided to try something, Steve had been growing out his stubble, and cause he’s lazy to shave it. He put his face to his tummy, a very ticklish spot on Tony and began rubbing it all over.

“WHAHAHAT THEHEHE FUHUHUHUHCK!?” Tony screamed with laughter, unsure of what was tickling him, and a quick glance down revealed it was Steve’s stubble.

“STUHUHUHBBLE???” He said, hoping that that was what he was tickling him with.

“Right again Tones! Now…the last one. Oh boy, hmm this may be difficult for you to figure out.” He teased, making Tony blush.

Swiftly, he lifted Tony’s shirt up, and exposed his tummy. And there it was, Tony’s cute little outie belly button that Steve loved so. It was super ticklish, and Tony didn’t know whether to love that, or hate that. Back to the situation, the final feeling. What could that be? Steve bent down, and placed his lips on Tony’s belly button, and Tony knew, he knew what was coming now, and he nearly squealed right then and there.

Steve took a deep breath in, and blew.

Tony shrieked.

He arched his back off the floor, writhing and squirming harder than he has before, tears of mirth streaming down his face. Steve blew another, and another, and another. All getting the exact same reaction, until on the 7th one, Tony went into silent laughter and was weak from all the raspberries and no longer had the strength to squirm. He began to tap the floor, and Steve saw that, and quickly stopped his tickles, looking down at the man, who was panting, a happy smile on his face.

“What was that Tones?” Steve smirked, ruffling his boyfriend’s hair.

“Rahahaspberries, sooooo many raspberries.” He couldn’t stop smiling.

“Do you feel better now? Or do you not want to talk about?” Steve asked, rubbing Tony’s back.

“I..I don’t want to talk about it.” Tony stuttered, suddenly seeming sad again, making Steve bite his bottom lip.

“Do you want me to tickle the crap out of you until you have to use the safeword? Would that make you feel better?”

“NOHOH! NO NO NO!” He giggled, covering himself up, already overly sensitive from the tickle attack.

Steve smirked, wiggling his fingers and approaching his boyfriend. See, in the language of Tony, no means yes when it comes to tickles. And well, that and Steve still felt like Tony could use some cheering up, and Tony never turned down an opportunity to be tickled.

#stony #stony tickle fic #tickle fic #tw: panic attack #tw: ptsd #ticklish!tony

118 notes · View notes

talialevine · 7 years

Text

You Know Not To Disobey

In the beginning of her novel, Women Who Run With The Wolves, Clarissa Pinkola Estes writes, “Wildlife and the Wild Woman are both endangered species. Over time, we have seen the feminine instinctive nature looted, driven back, and overbuilt. For long periods it has been mismanaged like the wildlife and the wildlands… throughout history, it has been plundered or burnt… natural cycles forced into unnatural rhythms to please others.” I include this quote because I believe that any woman, when looking at how the concept of womanhood has defined and shaped her life, would feel as though a greater force has always been working against her. For this is how I have felt my entire life. Womanhood has mostly been defined for me in my twenty-four years of life on this Earth, yet I have never wavered in my exploration to discover others who share my own definition. In this way I have looked at the concept of womanhood differently as I embark on different periods in my life. This short memoir is dedicated to sharing my vulnerabilities as I have experienced them as a young girl, and as a woman, and the ways in which those vulnerabilities have defined and shaped the way I look at womanhood.

When I was ten years old I was diagnosed with Type 1 Diabetes. While my father played an absent role, my mom was hyper-controlling. She would check my testing kit every week, eventually causing me to fake my numbers with control solution in order to please her. Both my parents tried to limit my activities in fear of my Type 1 getting out of control. This taught me that in turn, my life was limited and I would never be able to do the things “normal children” could.

I was taught how a woman is “supposed to be” from a young age. Being a daughter of two post-World War II generation parents I grew up in a household of my parent’s making. As Dr. Estes writes, the “post-World War II generation grew up in a time when women were infantilized and treated as property… parents who abused their children were simply called ‘strict,’ when the spiritual lacerations of profoundly exploited women were referred to as ‘nervous breakdowns,’ when females who managed to slip the collar for a moment or two of life were branded ‘bad.’” Although the world began to progress, parents growing up in this era had clear morals and values instilled into their way of life, and this significantly affected the ways in which I was raised, and how my shortcomings were handled by my parents. When I disobeyed, my father took an authoritarian approach. Although my father never hit me, he had a particular style of punishment that was terrifying to my sensitive young self. He liked to back me into a corner, so I would have nowhere to run, nowhere to hide. I recall once running from him and barricading myself in my bathroom (no doors had locks on them in my home growing up) with furniture to try to keep him out. When he finally got to me he would point his finger in my face and grit his teeth. My father taught me that obedience was key, and lack of, was the ultimate betrayal. Throughout this, my mother was silent. She too, was taught that disobedience of her husband was unacceptable. So she would put her head down and say nothing.

youtube

A Film on Family Life in the 1950′s

When I was fourteen years of age, my family travelled to Akumal, Mexico, as we did every holiday season since I was little. We went with some dear family friends, whose children were the same age as my brother and I. When we rented a golf cart to drive around the village, my father warned me not to drive as you had to be sixteen to get behind the wheel. However, one day as my father and I, along with Mary and Rick (her father) drove home in the golf cart, Mary asked if we could drive back into town without our fathers to check out a store. Rick said that was fine, and my father did not protest, in fact, he said nothing. We dropped them off at the condominium complex and drove back to the store. Mary didn’t find what she was looking for and so we got back into the golf cart and started to drive back towards the condo, however we stopped suddenly when we saw a blue van speeding towards us, the same style that my father had rented. As the van parked, my father stormed out. He ran towards me. His face was red, his eyes were crazy, and he grabbed me violently by the arm. Mary, Rick, and I all protested at once.

“Get the fuck out of my way,” he said.

“Mick, please, it was my fault!” Rick pleaded. My father forcefully dragged me into the car, as I was not going willingly.

“You are never to disobey me, you knew what I said,” my father stammered through gritted teeth.

“Dad, Rick said I could go, you didn’t hear -” I tried, but my father told me to shut up, and I did as I was told. We drove back to the condo in silence, as I tried to hold in my sobbing. He parked and opened my door, grabbing me once more by my wrist.

“Dad, stop, you’re hurting me!” I cried. He started walking faster, so I could barely keep up with him, and every few steps I would slip and fall. He didn’t stop, he continued to drag me all the way through the outdoor lobby, and all the way up three long flights of stairs to our condo. When we got through the door he physically threw me into my room.

“You are never to disobey me again, you hear?” He asked.

“Fuck you,” I said through sobs. His eyes flickered, like I had set something off in his body, something violent and uncontrollable.

“You will stay in here until you apologize,” he said and locked the door from the outside so I couldn’t escape. About five minutes later I could hear Mary and Rick arguing with my father. He told them to leave. I still had my cell phone so I called my mother, hysterical. Her response?

“Well you knew better than to disobey him.” She hung up.

Years later my therapist and I went over this story with my father, hoping to receive some means of reconciliation. He told me, “Sometimes you have to forgive yourself, and I have forgiven myself.” This incident along with years of borderline physical and mental abuse, caused me to view my womanhood as something that made me less than. It showed me that I was not important, my suffering did not matter, and my only job in this world was to obey the men who sought to control me.

youtube

After my grades were unsatisfactory for my father’s liking in my junior year of highschool, a similar event unfolded. This time, his words affected my future. He told me I would not get into college, “hell with these grades you wouldn’t even get into CU,” he said. He told me if I didn’t get my act together I could end up in the street, as I certainly would not be welcome in his household. My mother watched me cry, and she watched as my father told me crying was weak, so stop it. I stopped crying, went into my room and swallowed every pill I could find. I passed out, pissed my pants, and by the time my mother came into the room to check on me my blood sugars were lingering dangerously low. I spent two days in the hospital. The doctors wanted to admit me to the psychiatric clinic and put me on suicide watch, but my father protested. He told them he was a doctor and he was taking his daughter home. I was released “Against Medical Advice”.

When I woke up in my bed the following morning, I was covered in sticky patches. I had a large bandage where medical staff had tried to place the IV while I was unconscious. There were two plastic medical wristbands on each of my wrists, stating my name and what I was admitted for; attempted suicide. My father was the first to notice I was awake. He told me breakfast was served and to please meet him in the greenhouse, where our dining room table was. Groggy and confused, I walked into the greenhouse. My father, mother, and brother had already started eating. Bagels, lox, cream cheese, tomatoes, egg-whites, onions, and orange juice were all laid out beautifully on the table. I sat down and my father started speaking.

“We know you didn’t really want to kill yourself,” my father said, pausing to swallow some OJ, “and we know you did it to get back at us.” I didn’t say a word. Neither did my brother or my mother.

“So,” my father continued, “we want you to set up a plan to move on and let us know how you plan on getting back on track in school.” He continued eating his bagel. When I didn’t respond, he said, “Understood?” I nodded and left the table. It was never brought up again. Not once. To this day we do not talk about it or acknowledge it ever happened. Which is fitting, given how the next seven years of my life have played out.

This early exposure to rules regarding how women are supposed to act dictated how I viewed myself in the world. I did not feel I was allowed to speak up when wrongdoing was inflicted. I felt that my sexualization in the eyes of men and women was to be taken as a compliment. I was promiscuous through college, craving attention from others in order to prove my self worth. Freshman year, when I met a group of girls who accepted me, I felt like I had finally found my place in the world. These girls had a group of guy friends, a year older but five times as rowdy. They hosted wild parties on the hill and I was grateful to be liked by them. As Sophomore year rolled around, the girls and I moved into a house together. We frequently partied with the group of boys, and eventually each and every one of my roommates had slept with one or more of them, everyone except me. I began to receive unwanted attention from the boys, as I assumed they were aware that I was the only girl in the house that had not been “conquered” by the boys. One boy in particular, Nick, who had an ongoing relationship with Maddie, one of my roommates, began to show a particular interest in me. He would corner me at parties and ask for “just one kiss”. Each time someone else intervened, reading the uncomfortable situation. The first few times I laughed girlishly and tried to play the situation off casually, however, soon I developed a concrete disliking for Nick, one I was extremely verbal about both to Nick and Maddie.

One night all the girls in the house decided to go out, but I had a test the next day and decided to stay in. A few hours later I heard footsteps and loud noises upstairs. At first I assumed the girls had come home early but I soon identified the source of the voices; Nick and Lucas, another boy from the house. They started banging on Mikela’s door, shouting for her. We had been chewed out the day before for throwing a party at our house that disturbed our neighbors, so I immediately ran upstairs to calm them down. They were huge coke-heads, and they were fucked up.

“Talia!” Nick cooed.

“Please be quiet, Mikela and Maddie aren’t here,” I said.

“So you’re here alone?” Nick asked.

“Yes,” I said annoyed, not realizing my mistake. Nick smiled.

“Well,” he said taking off his shirt and walking downstairs, “Let’s have some fun!”

He crashed down the stairs and I followed, hoping to get him to leave. Lucas stayed upstairs. I told Nick to leave. He did not. He did the same song and dance I was getting so used to. Again, I refused his advances. But this time, there was no one to intervene, and he got mad. He slammed my body into the kitchen cupboards. He told me to obey him, words I was accustomed to adhering to. He went into my room. I only wanted him to leave. I told him this. I said I wouldn’t tell anyone, just please leave. He smiled, and I knew what was going to happen next. He knew what was going to happen next. And I let it happen.

I didn’t tell anyone for weeks. My roommates only knew Nick had been violent because of the damage they inflicted to the house. I slowly stopped going to my classes. Planned out how I was going to end it all. I would walk up towards Chautauqua and drown in the lake. Finally I told my best friend, Emily. Then I told my mom. She sent a cheesecake from New York and a package from Europe, and arranged for me to see a therapist. She did not want me to prosecute. My father and I have never spoken about the incident. When I finally told my other roommates, it was only because they were planning on going out with Nick that evening. At first they were sympathetic, then we never talked about it again. They continued to hang out with Nick (you can’t make this up).

youtube

Why Society Defends Rape

I eventually dropped out of school. I went to a recovery center for five days in Arizona, but they drugged me heavily and most of the meetings were for drug addicts and alcoholics. I moved back in with my parents in their home in Arizona. They let me stay there for about five months before they let me know they were disappointed with my progress and I would need to go back to school and move out, which I did. I went back to school for one year. Then I dropped out again. After months of suicidal thoughts, I decided to leave Colorado, and Boulder in particular, for good. I moved to Arizona and got a job working at a clothing boutique. About a year later I decided to re-enroll in online courses.

I am now finishing my degree and am set to graduate from CU Boulder in August of this year. I have not overcome my past. I have a lot more work to do in order to become a stronger woman. I do not feel strong, but I am alive. Perhaps that is the secret of life; to endure.

My story is not over. The concept of womanhood that has defined my youth, will not define my life. As Dr. Estes writes, the Wild Woman is an endangered species, but I am a Wild Woman, and I will not be tamed.

22 notes · View notes