Worth the Risk
Today I am sharing a poem I wrote 28 years ago, in the summer of 1994. Early in that year I had ended my relationship with the young man I had been dating for nearly four years and had expected to marry. He was an amazing person and in many ways our relationship was wonderful. We had dated my last two years of high school and made it through my first year of college and into the second. He knew the hard, painful secrets of my past – that the boyfriend I had as a freshman in high school had beat me, raped me – that while some of the rumors whispered in the halls of our small high school were untrue, many were true. He knew I was running away from that past, from the shame of it and forging a new version of myself. He was one of the only parts of my past that I wanted to carry into the future. I was trying to forget my past, but found doing so impossible. It is too long a story to tell, but instead of forgetting my past I ended up ...