I Am A Rape Victim And This Is My Story
There are still nights where I see flashes of his face and smell his cheap cologne mixed with sweat every now and then, but I’ve forgiven him. Not because he deserves it, but because I do.
There are still nights where I see flashes of his face and smell his cheap cologne mixed with sweat every now and then, but I’ve forgiven him. Not because he deserves it, but because I do.
That’s the thing about developing alzheimer’s: one only has room for few, specific memories. They’ll try to hold onto these memories as much as possible, but in doing so, they end up forgetting that anything else ever existed.