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Description
“So, are you finally going to ask? Are you finally going to ask me why I never meet your eyes, why I shy away from your every touch? Ask me, Sheila. Ask me. You’re not going to ask, are you? Fine. All right, I’ll tell you. Sure, men are all safe. Yeah, every male relative is a perfectly innocent man. Don’t be naïve, Sarah. The world isn’t made out of pretty pastels and shiny rainbows, so don’t wrap up a flawed existence with your sparkly wrapping paper. No matter how many times you try, there will always be something you can’t just tuck in a box and tie up with a pretty pink ribbon. There will always be things that don’t work with your “reality”. Why can’t you see it?

“You always say my uncle’s such a nice man, such a gentleman. Gentlemen don’t creep into little boys’ rooms at night, Sheila. Gentlemen don’t do the unspeakable things that man did to me. Have you heard the term sexual abuse, Sheila? Does that fit into your narrow-minded view of the world? Well, I don’t care if it does or not. I’m going to shove it in your face until you have no choice to accept it. Yes, yes, yes, Sarah, the world is a dark place. Puppies don’t play in the streets, especially not in New York. No, don’t you dare cry. Stop it. This is the truth, and you’re just too stuck in denial to accept it. The world is rotting. Every day, men like my uncle are molesting little boys, raping little girls, and abusing their wives. Oh! There goes another. One child’s dream of a regular life just stripped from him. One woman’s dignity just pried from her shaky fingers.

“What’s that? Are you saying you’re sorry? Don’t ever pity me, Sheila. Just because my uncle was a sick bastard doesn’t mean I should be pitied. If you have pity to spare, use it on yourself. I’ve gotten over my childhood. I deal with it every day, from the morning when I open my gritty eyes to the evening when they fall shut. There isn’t a minute that goes by where it doesn’t haunt me. Now, I see a child in the park, and I’m faced with worry: Is his dad abusing him? When he falls and doesn’t cry, is it out of habit of stuffing down emotion, or just because it didn’t hurt? Is that boy me?

“No. Don’t talk, Sheila. I’ve dealt with my problems. How do you think it makes me feel when you just live in denial, hiding beneath your Crest-whitened smile? You deny any and every thing that sucks in this world, and yet you’re being eaten from the inside out about it. You wonder why I don’t want children. I’ll tell you: I don’t want kids because it would be a crime to bring innocents into our world when I’m so messed up, and you’re even more fucked up. Don’t. Don’t, Sheila. Do not put that little half-smile on your face. For one second, can’t you just feel? I’m begging you, Sheila. Come back to me. The world won’t be so dark if we can bring some light to it. Please, baby. Don’t leave me here. Every time you close yourself off, you distance me a little more. I can’t stand it, Sheila, I can’t. But despite it all, I still love you. Despite everything, all I want in life is to wake up in the morning to a warm bed and a sleepy, genuine smile from your lips. That’s it. Smile, Sheila. Please, please, really smile. I love you. But I can’t love half of you.”

Description
“So, are you finally going to ask? Are you finally going to ask me why I never meet your eyes, why I shy away from your every touch? Ask me, Sheila. Ask me. You’re not going to ask, are you? Fine. All right, I’ll tell you. Sure, men are all safe. Yeah, every male relative is a perfectly innocent man. Don’t be naïve, Sarah. The world isn’t made out of pretty pastels and shiny rainbows, so don’t wrap up a flawed existence with your sparkly wrapping paper. No matter how many times you try, there will always be something you can’t just tuck in a box and tie up with a pretty pink ribbon. There will always be things that don’t work with your “reality”. Why can’t you see it?

“You always say my uncle’s such a nice man, such a gentleman. Gentlemen don’t creep into little boys’ rooms at night, Sheila. Gentlemen don’t do the unspeakable things that man did to me. Have you heard the term sexual abuse, Sheila? Does that fit into your narrow-minded view of the world? Well, I don’t care if it does or not. I’m going to shove it in your face until you have no choice to accept it. Yes, yes, yes, Sarah, the world is a dark place. Puppies don’t play in the streets, especially not in New York. No, don’t you dare cry. Stop it. This is the truth, and you’re just too stuck in denial to accept it. The world is rotting. Every day, men like my uncle are molesting little boys, raping little girls, and abusing their wives. Oh! There goes another. One child’s dream of a regular life just stripped from him. One woman’s dignity just pried from her shaky fingers.

“What’s that? Are you saying you’re sorry? Don’t ever pity me, Sheila. Just because my uncle was a sick bastard doesn’t mean I should be pitied. If you have pity to spare, use it on yourself. I’ve gotten over my childhood. I deal with it every day, from the morning when I open my gritty eyes to the evening when they fall shut. There isn’t a minute that goes by where it doesn’t haunt me. Now, I see a child in the park, and I’m faced with worry: Is his dad abusing him? When he falls and doesn’t cry, is it out of habit of stuffing down emotion, or just because it didn’t hurt? Is that boy me?

“No. Don’t talk, Sheila. I’ve dealt with my problems. How do you think it makes me feel when you just live in denial, hiding beneath your Crest-whitened smile? You deny any and every thing that sucks in this world, and yet you’re being eaten from the inside out about it. You wonder why I don’t want children. I’ll tell you: I don’t want kids because it would be a crime to bring innocents into our world when I’m so messed up, and you’re even more fucked up. Don’t. Don’t, Sheila. Do not put that little half-smile on your face. For one second, can’t you just feel? I’m begging you, Sheila. Come back to me. The world won’t be so dark if we can bring some light to it. Please, baby. Don’t leave me here. Every time you close yourself off, you distance me a little more. I can’t stand it, Sheila, I can’t. But despite it all, I still love you. Despite everything, all I want in life is to wake up in the morning to a warm bed and a sleepy, genuine smile from your lips. That’s it. Smile, Sheila. Please, please, really smile. I love you. But I can’t love half of you.”