Tear-Flavored Gelato

He asked who it was. I didn't know. All I knew was that I loved him. I was fifteen. I didn't know what that meant. He never hit me. He wasn't mean. I was hurt. I am scared. I will always be. I pull inside. I wrap up. I want to be alone. He wouldn't leave me alone. He called me names. He was mad. I could tell. But, I could''t tell him. I didn't have the words. I didn't have any words. How can a pain cut so deep it takes your breath, heart, and stomach all-in-one? I was a buffet for the sadness so it feasted. She heard me crying. I'd been so careful. It was in the shower. She couldn't see my tears. Water is always the same. Two hydrogens and one oxygen. Water is always the same. He was next. He was ugly, then, in my eyes--because he was mean. Another called me fat. He couldn't figure me out so his sarcasm, aimed to peel back my layers, made me cut my skin to see what he was looking for. He didn't want me. He was a dick. Literally. I can't remember his face, but I remember the feeling as it hit the back of my throat. As I gagged. As he held. He was polite. He didn't even make me get my own toilet paper. and as I wiped, he left. It was the guy's bathroom. A true patriarchy, I guess. I wonder if it would've been the same had I asked to use the girls'. They asked if it was true. How far I'd gone. If I knew. It wasn't, I hadn't, I didn't. He said he liked my boobs. I guess he liked her personality more. I wonder sometimes if I even have one. Then he came in. I was 18 now. I loved him. I knew what that meant. We slept together the first night. He cheated. I dumped him. I got a tattoo. I moved on. He came, then. I didn't. I didn't want to. It was a grey area. Not a lie. Not quite the truth. It hurt. I asked him to stop. He didn't want to. I offered something see. He took it. He stole it really. I had offered five. He took twenty. I smiled sadly. I wanted to please and leave. He didn't even get me toilet paper. I felt his hands that night. Sometimes I still do. I didn't want them. Every part of me vehemently rejected them. I wanted them gone. He got closer. He whispered. I got scared. I pretended to sleep. He gave up. The next day I ran. He still doesn't know. I met two more hims. I didn't want them so I left. I met a third. He didn't want me so he left. This is it. I am alone. A matriarch now. Next time, I'm taking the girl's room.