From: owner-eda-thoughts-digest@smoe.org (eda-thoughts-digest) To: eda-thoughts-digest@smoe.org Subject: eda-thoughts-digest V2 #330 Reply-To: eda-thoughts@smoe.org Sender: owner-eda-thoughts-digest@smoe.org Errors-To: owner-eda-thoughts-digest@smoe.org Precedence: bulk eda-thoughts-digest Thursday, November 18 1999 Volume 02 : Number 330 * If you ever wish to unsubscribe, send an email to * eda-thoughts-digest-request@smoe.org with ONLY * the word unsubscribe in the body of the email * . * PLEASE :) when you reply to this digest to send a post TO the list, * change the subject to reflect what your post is about. A subject * of Re: eda-thoughts-digest V2 #xxx or the like gives readers no clue * as to what your message is about. Today's Subjects: ----------------- ET: It's a tinkertoy word... [Naomi Vaughn ] ET: I love you but(poem) [Seth Fulmer ] ET: a submission...Rose Petals for Victoria [Mandabear Four Subject: ET: It's a tinkertoy word... kiss me now kiss me sweet kiss me quick before you realize the dawn has come - -- roses are red just like those lips and they're wilting you see how sad - -- hey baby go wild twist and twirl run free hey darling shiver and shake giggles flying through the miles - -- my sweet little misguided angel the thorns are distracting but the rose is there you just have to want to see it my dear so good to me you comfort and soothe and i understand in ways unfathomable that you are something unwavering - -- babys breath and daisys thorn friendly pluck from your INNOCENCE your PURITY as the talk turns mysterious and dangerous in the midnight hours so exciting and startling and sweet you know you'll never go too far with me keeping in stride - -- you say i'd be a great kiss guaranteed no doubt i smile at your confidence - -- see look now see her? LOOK and now? i suppose it's just your luck that causes you to look her way just as her lingering gaze turns from your form making you miss her apparent affection that which everyone else tells you is so obvious but you choose not to believe because of how wanted it is and instead you simply wait for the sure sign and she does the same looking away as you turn to watch her sighing. - -- lick luck flick ... but that doesn't mean his smile is a hello or that his hello can be roughly translated to come hither - -- come come come over here get over here what? - -- i'd like to explain the way i seem to attach the way blue affects my senses but i'm afraid the drugs kick in moments earlier than expected and your questions turn into a lullaby. - -- sail away fly away go away- he left me "Baby, baby, baby... dreams I'm havin' lately... let's just say I'm happy... when I see the light..." ~Jess Klein, 'Everybody's Crazy' ____________________________________________________________________ Get your own FREE, personal Netscape WebMail account today at http://webmail.netscape.com. ------------------------------ Date: Thu, 18 Nov 1999 20:47:32 -0500 (EST) From: Seth Fulmer Subject: ET: I love you but(poem) Hiya everyone :) This poem I just wrote now. I wrote one on the train coming back to Philly tonight that wasn't quite the same...I dunno what's up with my head. I'm upset about 1 thing but I put my energies into something else. Anyhow, this is just some odd quirky poem I just created hehe :) Also, if you guys don't wanna receive my poetry anymore, let me know. I'm gonna try to put this in every email so that you know you have the option. Take care and have a Great Day! :o) Oh..and Nicole, you can put this in Section 8 if you want. ================================================= I love you but by Seth D. Fulmer 11/18/99 I love you but you're but an illusion a innocent rush in the hormones of life I'd kiss you but your thorns are too poisonous making me die before my very eyes I'd ramble before you but you cover my lips speaking of passions that never should come I'd hate you but you possess beauty so rare that angels in heaven fight for it so much I'd miss you when you die but you left me last night screaming and yelling that you hated my name I'd call you but you never gave me your number you only told me that you never wanted to see me Why didn't you tell me that you were a child barely of age for me to fall in love ------------------------------ Date: Wed, 17 Nov 1999 21:26:53 -0500 From: Mandabear Four Subject: ET: a submission...Rose Petals for Victoria Hey there everyone. I haven't posted in so long. Here is a story..so far I've only submitted poems but here's my first story. Comments are welcome and very much appreciated. Thank you so much. ~Mandabear~ "Rose Petals for Victoria" Dear Journal, March 13, 1996 My shrink thinks writing in a journal is good therapy and that I should use one to convey my feelings to her. I've never written in a journal before. Not even in my youth had I ever thought of using one. Here I am, a grown adult telling some piece of paper how I feel. Want to know how I feel? Pretty damn stupid. Dr. Base thinks I better express myself in writing than I do speaking. How can she tell? I've only met with her a couple of times. She told me to start from the beginning and continue until after the incident. When I finished completely, she told me to come back and see her. After we discussed the entries, we would figure out what to do from there. Well, here I go. I was working really hard on my thesis paper for psychology class and I decided to take a break. My fingers were numb from the methodical movement over the keys. I began to do the head bob that was so familiar to me. After nodding off for the third time I resolved to give into my exhaustion and drew myself a bath. I poured about half of the bottle of bubble bath into the streaming water and began stripping off my clothes. While the tub was filling, I dragged myself into my room and grabbed some bed clothes. When I finally nestled myself among the bubbles, my mind began to drift and I fell into a deep sleep. When I woke up, the water that I had remembered being sultry was now frigid and shocking to my skin. The bubbles had mostly dissolved and there was a silky feel to the water. When I emerged from my bliss of relaxation, I heard a knock at the door. Hurriedly I threw my hair up in a blue terry cloth towel and wrapped my matching bathrobe around my soaking wet body. I was a bit upset because I was made to come out of my bath so quickly but when I opened the door, my anger was appeased. Lying there in the hall outside my door was a bouquet of blood red roses. I picked them up and read the card. To: my one and only. Love: your secret admirer. I laughed. I knew exactly who had sent them and made a mental note to thank Dylan the next time I saw him. Dylan is the best friend anyone could have in the whole wide world. He's always doing sweet things like leaving me flowers, making me breakfast or taking me out to fancy restaurants. They're the normal things most boyfriends do, except we are strictly friends. We met back in eighth grade. He was holding a party commemorating John Lennon's death. My sister was invited and I was dragged along. We hit it off real well then and from that day on we were inseparable. We graduated together with high honors from our high school and we ended up at the same college wanting the same things out of life. I feel weird writing about this doc, as I know you'll be reading it. Somehow I wish I could just tell you face to face what happened but I can't. I promise I won't let you down though. I am afraid to show emotions to people now and I bet that's why you're making me do this. Dylan's "participation" in my life has caused me to be defensive but I am slowly learning to live again. If it wasn't for my constant reflection on the terror he put in me, I wouldn't be in this situation. I know I'm avoiding writing more about Dylan, but this is hard for me. Please, bear with me. When I saw him the next day in psych class, he was acting kinda strange. I could tell he was up all night thinking about something. He looked like someone had put Eye Black on him while he slept. The bags under his eyes were the darkest I'd ever seen. I felt kinda bad for him. He'd been struggling so much in this class. Our professor had begun the unit on child abuse issues last week and I knew from the beginning Dylan was going to have problems dealing with this. He's never been to see a shrink in his life which is why I think he took up an interest in psychology. He's here to help himself as much as he's here to learn to help others. Among the many conversations we've had, he's never really talked about his childhood. He likes to talk about high school and other stuff. I think he's afraid of something. I don't know what though. In the end, reflecting back on it all, I guess I figured him out. Dylan had come over on the last day of my life and told me things I had never heard before about himself. It was strange though. He didn't tell me anything with words; just actions. I was again working on my thesis when he knocked on my door. When I opened it, there he was holding a basket of rose petals. There were red, white, pink, yellow, and a couple of black ones near the bottom, as I would find out later. Of all the things he's ever done, I was surprised the most by this unusual gift. I didn't know what to make of the different rose petal colors because they all meant something different. After he left though, I realized what he meant by each color and why he picked those specifically. He looked really good when he came in. He was wearing this dark blue shirt that made his baby blue eyes more noticeable than ever. His jeans stuck to his tush like plastic wrap to a wet plate. His hair was actually combed and he smelled great. I was in heaven as he looked down upon me. In my times of need he's always been my angel until that night when he became my devil. It was almost like I had just lifted some weight off his shoulders when I invited him in. I set the basket of rose petals on the coffee table and switched off my computer. I was so thankful I had an excuse to stop working. I think I was starting to get that rare form of radiation cancer from staring at the computer too long. I plopped down on the couch while Dylan got a drink from the kitchen. I was so jaded I just wanted to drop dead. I lit some aromatic candles and then began giving myself a neck massage. Dylan came up behind me and took my place though. I couldn't believe how wonderful it felt to have someone else kneading my neck and shoulders. He pushed me over from where I was sitting and began working on the rest of my back. I should add here that he is mighty good with his hands. I was crouched over as he ran his hands all over my back and massaged the kinks and knots out. When I came back up from my hunched over position I fell into his arms and flicked on the t.v. with the remote. I channel surfed until I found my favorite movie "Dirty Dancing" playing on HBO. I absolutely cannot live without my premium channels. We hadn't really talked that much except for small talk here and there. I went on about the rose petals saying how much I loved them and how sweet he was to me. He just blushed and laughed it off. It was not uncommon for Dylan to come over and watch movies with me. Sometimes if my lights were on at 2:30 in the morning he'd be up and knocking on my door. If I was depressed he's come over with a funny movie and a half gallon of Chocolate Chip Cookie Dough. He says he doesn't like to see me sad and if I was going to get fat he was the one who would supply the sedative. There was a scene in the movie where the two characters were about to serenade one another and I looked up to Dylan to make a comment. He was intently looking at me and I just kinda laughed nervously. He put his finger to my lips and shushed me. Then he bent down and kissed me. I pulled away at first and looked at him. He looked right back and I could see the intensity of love in his eyes. I was a bit shocked by what happened but I let it slide and tried to turn away. He stopped me and kissed me again. I tried to resist but I couldn't. He was too strong. Finally I gave in and started kissing him back. I couldn't believe what I was doing but I was doing it. A million thoughts were whirling around my head as we sat there kissing. He began to move his hands up my shirt but I stopped him. He wasn't angry or anything but he then began tickling me. He knows I am extremely ticklish everywhere. Somehow in the middle of this game we ended up on the floor. We called a truce once to push the coffee table aside. Once that was out of the way though, we resumed our war. At one point he was on top of me, grabbing at my sides and he looked down at me and planted a soft kiss on my lips. I just kinda looked up to him and wondered what he was thinking. I laughed and told him to get off of me. He looked at me again and I saw something flicker inside his eyes. I didn't know what it was but it was almost evil. He pushed me down as I tried to push him off of me. Oh doc, this is so painful for me. I know I have to go on but I don't want to. All these memories are flooding my mind like you wouldn't believe and I am scared. I am angry because I got caught up in the moment and didn't tell him to stop. I thought he would stop when I said no. When he didn't, that's when I got scared. I never thought he could do anything to me. I know I have to continue but I can't; not now. Later. Later I will tell you of his horrible deeds. Dear Journal, March 14, 1996 Okay, I've composed myself again. I'm sorry about yesterday's entry. I was getting way too emotional. I remember thinking that whole time how odd it was that he wasn't really talking to me. He was just tickling me and eventually kissing and fondling me. I tried to get him off of me but it wasn't working. I told him to stop once but he didn't listen. He began to pull up my shirt and I tried to push it back down but he wrenched my hands away and told me no. He reached behind me and tried to unhook my bra but got frustrated and pulled a pocket knife out of his pants and cut it off. I felt the cold steel blade against my skin and shuddered. He pulled away my bra and put his mouth to my chest and began sucking on my breasts. I started crying uncontrollably. I didn't know what else to do. I tried to tell him no but he just clasped his rough callused hand over my mouth and told me to shut up. My face was soaked with tears and my hair was damp from sweat. My heart was pounding so hard I thought it was going to explode. At one point I almost prayed it did explode. I just wanted him off of me. When he finished with my chest he moved his hands down to my pants and began fumbling with the button. He unbuttoned them and began pulling them down. My tears were now flowing faster and faster. When I whimpered, he smiled sadistically and continued taking off my clothes. I closed my eyes as he pulled down my panties because I didn't want to watch him as he relieved his sexual frustrations. He was really rough when he finally entered me. I thought I was in pain when I busted my femur skiing last winter. This was a whole new kind of pain. I felt like puking when I opened my eyes and saw him on me, hurting me like this. I wanted to yell and scream and tell him no but most of all I just wanted him to go away. My only thought was to be some place other than here. I told him no before and I just didn't have the energy any more to fight him. When he finished...raping me, I just lay there naked and alone on the floor. I had gone numb from the shock of his entrance into me. My tears stained my face and never really went away. He took the rose petals and scattered them all over my body. The red ones over my heart, the yellow in my hair, the pink trailing down my torso, the white ones around my breasts and in between my legs. To top it all off he also put the black ones in between my legs and on my breasts. As I thought back on it later, I realized the colors and where they were placed. The red, meaning love was on my heart...from where I loved. The yellow, meaning friendship in my hair because it contrasted perfectly with the red and brown highlights...the one thing he loved the most about me. The pink, meaning sweetheart, was placed on my torso as he wanted to be my sweetheart that night as he touched my whole body. The white, strategically place in between my legs as a symbol of innocence. My body was untainted until he came along which explains the black petals in between my legs and on my breasts. He killed that sacredness of me. He might as well have placed the black over my heart too, as he purged me of all the love I held. He left so abruptly after placing the petals on my body and I was still in shock. I got up from where I was lying and cried as I watched the rose petals fall to the ground. The first thing I did after he left and I composed myself again was take a shower. In the shower, I froze even though the water was scalding. I felt so dirty and contaminated. I tried to process everything that went on but my brain didn't want to register this horrible deed. No matter how hard I scrubbed with the soap I couldn't wash him away. I could still feel him on me. I could feel the scars he left inside me. I wanted to cry forever but I couldn't. I was still in shock and always would be. Doc, even though I hate writing about this I am relieved in a way. I know I haven't written in a couple of days and for that I am sorry. This is the first time I've ever really talked about him raping me. I never told anyone what happened until the nervous breakdown that caused me to enroll in this program. As I sit here, I am shaking uncontrollably. My heart is pounding because I can see him raping me in my mind's eye. I am so scared. I don't want this to be happening although I know it's for the best. Dear Journal, March 15,1996 After the breakdown I was forced to drop out of school to be part of the hospital program. In a couple of months I hope to resume my regular classes. The dean of the university has made a deal with me. He said that because of the nature of my breakdown he would let me start the year over as if I had never set foot in one of the classrooms. He realized that I would be taking the same courses over but that was fine by him and me. Dylan transferred shortly after my breakdown to some college in Utah. Someone told me he had a calling from God and wanted to pursue a career in ministry. I laughed at that and shook my head. How could he pursue religion after what he'd done to me? If I was God I would never forgive him. In a couple of hours I will be seeing Dylan for the first time in months. I figured I could write about that later and tell you how it went. We are going to be in one of those observance rooms with the two way mirrors in case I panic and can't handle being there with him. Dr. Base isn't going to be there but a couple of the doctors in charge of me here are going to be supervising. One of the nurses is calling for me. She says it's time. I have to go. I promise to write later about the events that took place. I am back and crying again. The doctors wanted to give me a sedative but I told them I didn't need one. When I was collected by the nurse, I was scared. Even though I had been waiting for the moment to arrive, I was really nervous. It's kinda funny. I've been in this hospital for three months now and I have never noticed how white and bland the walls are. I mean they should liven the place up a bit. Maybe it would lift people's spirits. I walked slowly down the corridor dragging my feet. I felt like I was going to meet my death again. In a sense I was. Dylan killed me not in the physical sense but more emotionally and mentally. When I got to the conference room the nurse that had escorted me gave me a hug of encouragement and opened the door for me. I couldn't believe what I saw in front of me. Dylan was sitting there in the same blue shirt and pants he had worn the night he raped me. I wanted to vomit but I held my head high and pretended not to notice. I wasn't going to let him think he had any power over me On the table was a red rose. It was just lying there in the cellophane wrapper mocking me. Part of me wanted to throw the rose at him. If my aim didn't fail me I could have maybe gotten a thorn or two in his eyes. I couldn't believe he would have the audacity to wear the same clothes he had on the night he raped me. I took a deep breath and sat down. He looked at me and smiled. I gave weak hello and looked longingly at the two way mirror hoping they could see what was going on inside of me. I sighed and got up the courage to ask my first question. "I want to know why," I demanded. "Why what?" he asked innocently. "Don't play stupid with me. You know what I'm talking about," I accused angrily. "I don't know what you are talking about," he protested again. "Why, Dylan, did you rape me?" I exploded. "I mean you could have asked me if I wanted to have sex with you. We could have discussed it rationally and maturely. You didn't even bother to ask. You assumed that I would say no it's a bad idea. I did say no Dylan. I said no when you pushed me down. I cried as you threw yourself so violently into my virgin body. I protested with every fiber of my body but you were too interested in what you wanted. What you desired. You have known me for 5 years. How could you hurt me like this?" I sobbed. "Look Victoria, I know what I did was wrong. I am sorry. I have turned to God in hopes that he will forgive me. I pray that you find it in your heart to forgive me," he said apologetically. "You pray that I find it in my heart to forgive you?" I shouted. "You mean the heart that you turned to stone? The one you ripped away when you raped me? The same heart you placed red rose petals over?" I grabbed the rose on the table and threw it across the room in disgust. It bounced off the wall without any injury. "I'm sorry if you are angry with me. I really meant no harm to you," he said again. "If you didn't mean to hurt me then why were there black petals in with the other one's? Why didn't you stop when you saw the pain in my eyes? Why were you so rough with me?" I demanded. I wanted to kill him. He just sat there with this half smile on his face. He almost looked like a little boy being scolded by his mother and was trying not to laugh. My hands clenched the chair as best they could. I knew if I let go, I would have killed him. I don't know how I would actually do it but I had this rage in me that was getting very hard to control. He didn't say anything for a while but when he finally did it was to say good-bye. I stopped him before he got up though. "Wait a minute. I'm not done with you. Do you know what the doctors told me? They said I might not be able to have babies because of the scars you left in me. Do you know how that feels? To have something taken away from you that you weren't really sure you would ever take advantage of? Do you know what it feels like to have the beauty and freedom of life taken out of you? I guess you wouldn't because you don't even care if you took the life of someone. Not only did you take my innocence away you took away my ability to produce an innocent child. You have ruled my life for way too long. I control my thoughts and feelings now. You can't harm me any more if I don't let you. You know what? I hope you do have a great life ahead of you. I hope you like living the hypocritical life being a minister. I only feel horrible for those who believe in what you have to say. How can you tell people the word of the Lord? How can you preach to people to treat their bodies like temples when you've destroyed the sanctitude of other's? I cannot stand the sight of you right now. You say you didn't mean to hurt me but you did. You had full intentions of doing something drastic like raping me if I didn't give into your sexual wishes. You wouldn't have brought the black rose petals if you didn't. I know I will never get an explanation for that one. All you had to do was ask. If you were so concerned about not hurting me you would have asked," I screamed rising from my chair. "Why would you wear the clothes you wore the night you raped me? Why would you mock me like this if you didn't want to hurt me? You make absolutely no sense. You are saying one thing and doing something totally different. Just leave. Go. If you stay here any longer I may kill you. I don't want anything to do with you. Don't ever try to contact me or find me. I am not pressing charges against you because it's your word against mine. I would never win. I washed away the evidence because I was so repulsed by my body because you tainted it. I hate you and I hope you rot in hell for all eternity." With that I walked out and never looked back. Doc, I want to share something with you. In my life I have always been picky with those whom I choose to love. But when I do choose to love someone it's completely. I know I have to be more careful with those I trust and that's no thanks to Dylan. But like I told him, I control my life. Seeing him today was a real eye opener. I decided right then and there that he wouldn't have the effect on my life he has had in the past. I wrote this poem about what happened and it's my final tribute to him but more to myself. - -Your Abuse- I feel your hands on my body, I see your body on mine. I hear you quiver as you ask me questions. I smell the fear in your voice. I taste the bitterness of your own pleasure. Why me? Why was I your victim? I remember all the little things you used to do. I was blind but now I see. Tell me one thing before I go, Was this planned? I have to know. As I think back on it, I am glad I was his victim and not someone else. I mean as much as I hate him and feel sorry for him, I am just glad it wasn't a stranger. I knew Dylan for a long time before this incident. Some people think it's harder to deal with when someone you know rapes you or violates you in any way. I was a pretty strong person before he raped me and I am even stronger now. I guess it's like that saying, "What doesn't kill us only makes us stronger." ________________________________________________________________ Get free e-mail you don't need Web access to use -- Or get full, reliable Internet access from Juno Web! Download your free software today: http://dl.www.juno.com/dynoget/tagh. ------------------------------ End of eda-thoughts-digest V2 #330 **********************************