March 18, 2009

this morning i skipped my first class
and slept in until 11, because
it seemed more worth it.  it
feels like spring outside today.
i walked down the hall in my
white bathrobe (Micah’s Christmas gift to me)
turned on the shower
stripping naked and glancing in the mirror,
rounded curves, heavy thighs, pale
remembering who i am
our shower is tiny here;
a little grey-tiled cube
with a dingy blue plastic curtain
i stepped into the hot water, humming
last weekend Micah and i showered together
both of us squeezed into
too small a space; pressed against
each other, not minding.
we could barely turn around,
the water falling on and between us
his narrow waist, bony hips
slender wrists and knobbled fingers
soap film strung between us
sliding his hands over my skin
smooth and silky and slick
we talked and laughed, and gave
warm wet kisses – standing close
breast to chest and thigh to thigh
today, i stood in the shower by myself
and hummed a song alone
i felt naked, and sort of sad
because i liked our cramped showers –
shampoo in my eyes, and shuffling around
to rinse beneath the showerhead
squeezing and stretching and pushing
to get clean and be near each other.
too close was just close enough;
it felt right
i ran my own hands over my own skin
and did not feel quite so
smooth or silky or slick
part of me is missing again.
i listened to Caitlin giggling in the kitchen
with her new boyfriend, you remember –
that creep, Rob, who is still
"a really nice guy" and so they are still dating
i didn’t feel like humming anymore
and my throat felt a little tight
with the warm water running down my face and
back and chest, it became difficult
to tell if i was crying,
or if i just wanted to be.


March 16, 2009

now that my eyes aren’t
so puffy and red,
i’m feeling calmer
(and a little less bitter)
here we are:
Micah left last night after
9 beautiful days
our longest visit away from our families;
it was like playing house for a week.
he slept in while i went to class,
made dinner while i did homework –
we spent lazy evenings
watching old episodes of House
and making love.
we visited the MFA,
saw the Harvard Glee Club perform,
attended a Speakeasy party dressed as gangsters,
got cannoli at Mike’s,
celebrated his 20th birthday…
for a week we got to pretend like we were a normal couple
like all of my friends and their boyfriends
and we sat together and drank vodka and juice
laughing about the week –
it felt right, and good
so of course, saying goodbye again
felt just as wrong (if not more) than ever
i can’t believe it’s been almost 2 years already;
how can i still be so in love?
hard to believe that i thought a month
was enough to know someone;
it’s been 20 and i’m still learning each day
i’m sorry for being so depressing sometimes
i really am awfully spoiled – that last break
was the longest all semester: 6 weeks
we’ll both be home in 11 days
granted, we’ll only see each other for
perhaps a few hours, at best
but i’ll be in St. Louis again in a month
and we’ll both be home for the summer
part of me still wants to scream with frustration
(though i’m nearly 20; shouldn’t i be more grown up
than wanting to scream?)
because we can’t have the simple things –
doing homework together,
cooking dinner, watching TV
the mundanity is what i wish for the most.
anyway, i have a lot of work to do
and the harder i work, the sooner
spring break will be here.

March 16, 2009

gone again.
i’m tired of this.
i ache.

March 5, 2009

"you think you’re drowning but you’re not –
i would never let you"

this quote is what is getting me through this week:
knowing that he’ll be here in 26 hours
and i’ll feel, if not all better,
then at least not broken.

March 3, 2009

i’ve met with MIT Mental Health
and Student Support Services
this has affected me more than i realized;
i have been told it may be PTSD
i have spent the last two days
with my emotions all over the place –
sometimes with incredible anxiety,
sometimes with utter apathy and exhaustion.
i spoke with Caitlin, who has decided she
will date him, give him a chance
because he’s a "really nice guy"
and that is her perogative
(after all, if he touches her,
it’ll be because she welcomed it)
i will be seeing a psychologist
and a dean sent a message to my professors
asking them to help me as much as possible
because i am struggling with a personal problem.
Caitlin and i will keep communicating;
i will get help, and she will keep him
away from here as much as possible
and i am learning:
he will never touch me again, so
as violated as i felt, it’s over now
so now it’s just the rest of this ridiculous week
three tests in three days,
and Micah will here in 72 hours
(that’s nothing, that’s nothing!)
and he will erase these awful
memories from my skin
and i’ll remember what being loved feels like.

March 1, 2009

almost 3 years ago,
during a weekend visit to MIT,
a friend and i decided to stay at a
frat house (perhaps not the wisest choice,
but it was a 2 miles walk back to campus
and it was 4 am, and raining)
there were about 6 or 7 other
"prefrosh" visiting, all of us
gathered in one room at the frat
sitting in a circle, talking, late at night
we got tired; we laid down; all of us,
side by side
i was sleeping between two boys:
my friend, Kevin, and another boy
named Rob
who i didn’t know; had never met
i laid down so i faced Kevin’s back
and Rob was lying so he faced mine
we fell asleep and when i woke up
Rob’s hand was under my shirt,
under my bra, squeezing my bare breast
and i didn’t do anything –
i didn’t move, i didn’t scream
i didn’t elbow him in the gut
and call him a pervert to his face
i just laid there, frozen
with his hand on my breast
until after a while, he moved his hand
down, across my stomach
and tried to put it down my pants
i clamped my elbow down on his wrist,
held him still so he couldn’t reach
after a minute, i sat up and woke up Kevin
i said "we need to leave,"
so we did.
then tonight, i was making myself dinner
and my suitemate, Caitlin, walks into the kitchen
followed closely by a boy
when i look up, i see that it is Rob
and have to hold my breath to keep from
throwing up all over the stove.
it turns out that Caitlin is interested in Rob,
and her friend Kelly doesn’t want me to tell her
what he did to me
because she doesn’t think it’s "that big of a deal"
and i shouldn’t ruin Caitlin’s potential relationship
so now i’m in my room,
cold, shivering, still feeling somewhat sick
because the boy who molested me knows where i live
knowing that if i tell Caitlin,
she and Kelly will be angry at me
knowing that if i don’t tell Caitlin,
i will be forced to face him every day
biting my tongue
and hoping that somehow i "get over it".