Damn what any moraliser tells me. Had I two grand in my pocket I'd be high as a kite now, out on the town and forgetting all the shit that's been getting me down.
But I haven't enough funds to go out or get high, so I am alone in my room feeling sorry for myself, the apartment that my boyfriend and others wrecked (and I long gave up on) having been padlocked by the coppers. I need to contact them to retrieve my belongings, along with retracting that fucking statement.
When I'm ready I may well start some sex work again, find an agency that can get me work as I'm sick of being skint. Not ideal, but beats being broke all the time. I want to be the person I was once more, happy and enjoying life, not the shadow a year or more of violence has reduced me to.
I know I can never be straight, normal, and I don't want to. I just want to be happy and live my life on my own terms again. Perhaps that was something he could not handle about me, the fact I was never ashamed of who I was, so he did his damndest to make me. He never quite suceeded.
I will salvage what I can of my fucked up life, and maybe in six months time....I'll be enjoying the summer, as I should have enjoyed the last one. I will no longer cry when I remember the lively, happy girl I was two years ago...cos I will be her again. No man who cannot accept me as I am will be welcome in my life.
3 years ago