ABSTRACT
I guess I need to write about this because I can’t stop thinking about it. I saw Mary today and we talked about what happened with Dad. She called it incest. I don’t like that word—it scares me. I remember waking up and Dad being in bed with me. I remember the way he looked at me differently and the way he touched me differently. It explains so much—why my mom says, “What’s it like to be your father’s wife?,” why I hate sex and feel so guilty, why Mom is so resentful of my relationship with Dad, and why I was always so spacey in school. I’m so scared and so sad. How do I act toward my dad now? How do I act toward my mom? She probably knew it was happening. There’s this very large part of me that keeps saying I’m crazy and none of this happened. I feel so terrible and awful. If I don’t believe I will live through this now, how could I have lived through it then?
