Shawn's Demanding Two Fold Request
At home, I walked in the door in a good mood, after winning the bingo game. Snacking on my donut and washing down with a Cherry Coke was like icing on a cake. My day was decorated with all the right people and my husband was home. There were so many reasons to be happy and I was smiling when I arrived at home. Keeping myself occupied while Shawn worked in his office is easy. If it was not business task at the office, there was planning for my car detailing appointment which always improved my mood. Endless Detailing is something Shawn approved of. I told Shawn the rape had taken place in my car. As long as I did not bring anyone over while he was home, Shawn did not gripe about much. His favorite lines, "you don't dwell on my traveling, and I appreciate your understanding. The least I can do is complain less". The smile on my face turned upside down, once I Shawn said come here, you owe me something. Stop playing, what I owe you Shawn? Let's start with a proper greeting.
I wanted to run to Shawn, grab him by his shirt and pull him close to me. In my situation, that would just be inviting trouble, in a way that made spoiling a person, a bad thing. All I could think of is the force behind the grinding strokes, as my rapist went ham on my body. With my eyes closed, my body took much aggression. Therefore, sound and my hearing was all I had going for me. The involuntary movement of my body, the way it moved, only from the thrust of his, made me feel weak and incapable like I was drugged. It was something I did not want to get use to. Saying I was frustrated is an understatement. My lack of control and inability to respond defensively or otherwise is something I can not get out of my head. Greeting my husband Shawn properly is something I wanted to do so desperately, but I could not get past my out of control experience. Oh my God is all I kept thinking. My rapist was too organized for my attack to have been his first. Though my rapist had not won and left me victim minded, I chose to move on with my life, free of the burdens often associated with being attacked. Stop with that proper greeting stuff Shawn, you know how I feel about you. That's not what I asked you. Didn't I say come here! His demand was real, as he walked toward me, grabbing me and forcing me against the wall of the entryway. All it took was a look, to get him to back off. Looking into my eyes, he positioned his hands on my shoulders and said, that's what the fuck I'm talking about, as he pushed me away. You need to see a Therapist! That shit got you twisted, and I got to deal with what could not be avoided. How you think...