I can’t believe what a fool I’ve been. Thinking that this woman knew me and trusted me.
There hasn’t been a challenge in my life I haven’t been able to figure out. And this…this shouldn’t be a challenge at all. We are so fucking right together. But here we are.
And here we’ll stay.
I could go back inside and tell her I would have given up my job, my passport, whatever I had to, to protect her and what we have.
I could say it until I’m blue in the face.
And she’d never hear me.
I’ve already handed her my heart on a platter twice, and, both times, she’s found it lacking. So, she wants me out of her system. Then, that’s what she’ll get.
The Jezebel
Regan
The Jezebel Podcast: Episode 35
“Hey ladies, I know we’re still taking a victory lap after Dr. Zimmerman’s downfall, so you’ll have to forgive me for being a Debbie Downer. But my life has come a little too full circle recently. You all have heard my story; you know what happened to me in that house. But what you don’t know is that I’m a total hypocrite. It took me almost twenty years to tell my mother. I’ve never told my brothers or any of the friends I made, before or since. Not because I’m ashamed of what those men did to me, but because I know that it was my fault. My best friends lived a nightmare because I thought I was untouchable and led them straight into a trap I should have seen coming. When I had the chance to help one of the women who was there with us, I turned my back on her. All because I wanted to pretend it never happened. I used to be afraid of my own shadow. Then, I met this man – and guys, he’s amazing. My dream man. I love him. Things weren’t going to work out… because...well, the why doesn’t matter now.
My first thought when he left...was, “Thank God, I won’t have to tell him about those three days of hell.” And I was relieved. I saw that as a silver lining to losing the only man I’ve ever loved. Can you believe that? I’m a prisoner in a cage I’ve built around myself.
And I had to ask myself. “What the hell is wrong with you?”
How can I sit on here and preach about shunning shame and ask you all to overcome your fear so that I can tell your stories? How? When I can’t do the same. I’ve been so mad at my family for the secrets they’ve kept from me…and here I am keeping a whopper of one from them, myself. How can I expect them to trust me, when I don’t trust them? How can I help my daughter be brave and speak out if, God forbid, anything like happens to her, when I haven’t been willing to myself? I watch tv. I’ve seen what happens to women who speak out. From Anita Hill to Christine Brasley - Ford, it’s always the women who lose. I was afraid of the scrutiny, and I let that fear keep me in a marriage I should have never entered. It’s precluded me from knowing real intimacy with anyone, and now, it’s become the silver lining for my heartbreak.
I’m struggling, ladies. I’ve been telling your stories, setting the record straight for everyone, but I don’t know how to do it for myself.
I don’t have any answers or a happy note to end this on. I just don’t know who else would understand. Thank you for listening. Next week, I’ll be back with more stories about women we won’t allow the world to forget. This is The Jezebel, signing off.”
Venus Rising
Stone
“Thank you so much for coming, I know it was a lot to ask,” Regan greets me with an outstretched hand and I just stare at it in disbelief.
“It’s flu season. Unnecessary touching isn’t recommended,” I say and climb out of my truck.
“Right,” she says, and stuffs her hands in the pockets of her skirt.
It’s fucking petty, but three months after that night at her house, the weight of resentment still sits in my gut like a boulder.
“I’m here. So cut the cloak and dagger. What do you need?” I ask, and cross my arms impatiently.
“It’s an emergency or I wouldn’t have called,” she says urgently.
I laugh. “Yeah, I’m aware that you avoid me at all costs.” I can’t keep the bitterness out of my voice.