“Then there are parts that are hazy like a foggy south shore morning, and parts I don’t remember at all—like it all happened to someone else. Oh, but it happened to me. I have the hole in my left cheek to prove it. And the cigarette burn on my arm. And the deeper scars no one can see. I would say that I didn’t really know how bad a situation I was in until I was out if it. Like getting used to a chilly lake. You tread water and after a while you warm up, even though the water temperature hasn’t ...changed at all. Looking back, I can feel the icy waters. But then, I didn’t have the means to take the temperature of my environment. I had only two childhood friends. I saw how their lives were. I knew that my life wasn’t like theirs. I was alone, floating face down in a deadly current and didn’t know it. People would say that I seemed sad. I don’t remember being sad. I don’t recall crying. Except for after the sexual abuse—which started long before I knew the name for it. I’m trying to regain the memories, but it’s hard to do after blocking them out for so long and trying to forget them.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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