I passed my rapist on the street today.
He wears glasses now and he grew a beard.
Not a lumberjack beard. It still grows in patchy.
I don’t know what made me look up as he came close to me.
Maybe some invisible tether still exists between our souls.
Sustained by the damage and hurt that still lives there.
Maybe it’s just that he was on a bike and I didn’t want to
get run over.
Whatever the reason, our eyes met.
There was a flicker of recognition before he had sped by.
As if I was merely someone he may have once stood in line
next to but couldn’t place.
It’s amazing to pass someone who has held your soul in their
grasp, has known you inside and out, has forever altered the course of your life
and not even acknowledge them.
As if the moments that forever fused you together and
shattered your trust, your ability to give freely is no more than a stranger.
I passed my rapist on the street today.
And I don’t know which one of us was more surprised to find
the others eyes upon them.
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