I was abused, it happened. Not once, not twice, hundreds of times. So many times I lost count. And no one actually cares. I’ve told people. They act like they care; they say it will get better, and that I should tell someone. IT WILL NOT EVER GET BETTER. They have no idea, with their f***ing perfect lives and their great families, with their most massive problem being their most recent breakup or an insignificant argument with their parents that they’ll get over in a day or less. THEY HAVE NO IDEA. I will live with this for the REST OF MY LIFE. It may not be the first thing on my mind every day in the future, but it will never get better. Telling someone will do nothing. It won’t take away from what happened to me, or give me any closure. They don’t know because they haven’t been where I am. One of the people that abused me is in jail. Not by my account, but he is there regardless. I still dream about him a few times a week, think about him every single day and deal with the repercussions of his assault on me every waking moment. Why would I put myself through a trial, or an interrogation by the police? I just want someone to listen, to tell me that they understand, and really, truly care. That’s all I want.