Fear

I'm 15 for a moment
Caught in between 10 and 20
And I'm just dreaming
Counting the ways to where you are
I'm 22 for a moment
She feels better than ever
And we're on fire
Making our way back from Mars
15 there's still time for you
Time to buy and time to lose
15, there's never a wish better than this
When you only got 100 years to live
I'm 33 for a moment
Still the man, but you see I'm a they
A kid on the way
A family on my mind
I'm 45 for a moment
The sea is high
And I'm heading into a crisis
Chasing the years of my life
15 there's still time for you
Time to buy, Time to lose yourself
Within a morning star
15 I'm all right with you
15, there's never a wish better than this
When you only got 100 years to live
Half time goes by
Suddenly you’re wise
Another blink of an eye
67 is gone
The sun is getting high
We're moving on...
I'm 99 for a moment
Dying for just another moment
And I'm just dreaming
Counting the ways to where you are
15 there's still time for you
22 I feel her too
33 you’re on your way
Every day's a new day...
15 there's still time for you
Time to buy and time to choose
Hey 15, there's never a wish better than this
When you only got 100 years to live

"100 Years" by Five For Fighting

You told me once this song made you tear up. You, the man who had proudly proclaimed years earlier that the last time you had cried was when you were ten and your parakeet died. Maybe it wasn't proudly proclaiming, maybe you were simply showing me how little was left inside.

But I saw you cry. I saw you fall to your knees and cry and plead. I wish I hadn't. I wish I hadn't felt the need to hold you, to stem the shaking that was pouring involuntarily from my body at your touch. I don't know why I did. I had convinced myself that you were so empty inside that your rape could take nothing from me, and there you were, crying because some asshole tried to kill you for raping me, and you didn't even know I saw it that way.

If I had had anywhere else to go that night, I would have gone. I fled the room where Mark was trying to kill you, through the kitchen and into the pool room. Brian followed me. He asked if what Mark was saying was true. I said yes. He asked why I hadn't told him. I explained that it was too much, that our lives were so intertwined that I couldn't bear the thought of burdening anyone else with the situation. I never wanted anyone to have to choose between the two of us. I didn't want to relive the pain, I wanted to forget it and move on. Eddie came to find me and asked me the same things. Brian held me and asked me if I would be OK if you came home with us. I said I would, but I knew I wouldn't be. Eddie snorted in derision at my acquiescence to what Brian had asked.

I couldn't go home with Mark after he attacked you. The look of rage on his face when I tried to stop him told me that I was no longer safe anywhere near him. The enraged screams questioning why I was sticking up for you, why I didn't let his 6'5" heavy frame attack your 5'5" scrawny body and later, why I was leaving with you told me I was right. He honestly wanted to kill you. I know Mark would've done something terrible that night. He already had by screaming those things at you, in front of people I knew. In some ways, that was more painful than living with it quietly tucked inside. I didn't want the world to know.

I didn't even mean to tell him. I was drunk, he was asking me why I hadn't had sex with him yet. I didn't want to tell him that if I had sex with him I'd have to give up Chris. Chris had put the word rape in my mind a few months before that night. We had talked about that night in John's apartment and why you made me uncomfortable. I still blamed myself for being there, for needing your money before that night. He said, "No, what he did to you was wrong. It was rape, plain and simple."

Except it's never plain and simple is it? Especially not when you were a daily part of my life. The pain of that night got pushed down and pushed down, and never discussed. Surely someone knew something happened. We were together all the time and all of a sudden I shuddered whenever I saw you and left the room without a word to anyone, every single time. John knew something had happened in his house. He told me once that people guessed and knew a lot more than I thought they did. I'm pretty sure he guessed it was horrible if I never came back to see him there. Now, the fact that it happened in his bed hurts more than anything.

It hurts more than the fact that I thought I deserved it because you decided your financial help entitled you to whatever part of me you wanted. It didn't, you know. If you wanted more of my life, you could have gone about it differently. You didn't have to help me and wait until I was so fucked up mentally and physically that I couldn't even resist other than to scream and cry. I don't even know if I did that loudly. Maybe not if you didn't realize I wanted no part of it.

There I go, blaming myself again. You knew I didn't want it. You still know I was upset. You knew you had no right to take whatever it was you wanted for whatever reason. Well, maybe you didn't know you had no right, but you should have. You should have known better. You should have cared about me more. We were supposed to be friends. My God, we spent hours upon hours together or on the phone every fucking day for years. Years, damn it. You're the only reason I had books and food and everything in between that I needed in school. If you had treated me differently, you wouldn't have had to forcibly take me.

I never wanted to tell you that yes, Mark meant what he said. You did rape me. That's why I stopped talking to you for the most part. I didn't want to be raped in the first place, I certainly didn't need to go over it again, after I had made some sort of tenuous peace with the situation. I even talked Chris into being mostly polite to you. That was difficult, he hated you before he knew about our history. Mark I just couldn't control that night. Then there you were, crying and on your knees, begging me to forgive you. I told you I already had. I told you I had decided that there was so little inside you that you couldn't possibly be capable of causing me pain. You broke down even further. I wanted to cry and run and never come back, but I was drunk, and had no where else to go. And I wanted Brian to not be stuck in the middle, so I didn't ask him to make you leave. I should have.