My Body Remembers (Excerpt from a larger story) 

I wonder what it would feel like to not be like this. 

I’ve been uncomfortable with my body since I can remember. 

It’s not the usual awkwardness of puberty, although I did go through that, too. 

It’s something else. Something much more serious. Something no child that age should experience. 

Sex. 

Sex. 

Sex. 

I wonder what it would feel like to be able to say sex without feeling empty. 

When I think of sex with him it’s like a whole other world. We go to that place together and it’s unlike anything else I’ve ever experienced. It’s exhilarating. It feels like the most concentrated, potent version of love. 

We spend time in this other world together and I forget about my insecurities and fears. I forget the part of me that makes me feel empty. I pack away the part of me that bleeds shame in a little box and wrap it up in a bow. 

When he touches me I’m relaxed, I’m happy, and I’m sure of myself and my body. I see him looking at me and suddenly nothing else matters. He overwhelms me with a sense of safety and warmth. I am warm. 

But then… I close my eyes for a moment. I’m cold. 

I open them. I’m back. What a relief. This feels wonderful. I feel like the most beautiful woman in the world, and I think that’s how he sees me. 

I’m so enraptured in his touch that I close my eyes and enjoy him. 

I’m cold again. It’s dark here. I’m not in a room… I’m just in darkness. And the only thing I can see is that little box wrapped in a bow.

It flies open. It’s Pandora’s box. Suddenly the world starts to vibrate and everything begins to fly out of the box in a gust of wind. I’m freezing. I turn to see a shadow walking towards me. Somehow in complete darkness I can see the shadow creeping up to me. It’s him. 

I run. I feel the shadow right on my heels. Suddenly he’s touching me. He’s running his hand up my leg. He’s kissing my neck. He’s stroking my hair. His touch is lukewarm, but not welcoming. It’s sweaty and heavy. It hurts. I cannot run from him. It’s happening all over again. 

My eyes fly open. I’m suddenly overcome with shame and disgust. How could I ruin something so perfect? Isn’t this not supposed to happen now that I’m married? 

Why can’t I let it go? Why does my body remember so vividly? Why is this happening to me? Haven’t I been through enough? 

I’m so disgusted with myself for thinking about it that I blame myself. 

I can’t help it. 

I can’t help thinking about it, or blaming myself for it. 

Why cant I be normal? 

Suddenly I remember where I am. I look at him. I look right into his eyes. It’s not the shadow. It’s my husband. My wonderful, loving, sweet, and amazing husband. 

I’m warm again. 

I’m home again. 

I know my body remembers, but sometimes he helps me forget.

All I have to do is look at him and its all over. 

Jess

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