Confessing in the Shadows

I never thought I'd say this out loud, but here I am, spilling it all because it's eating me up inside. I was just a kid, really, when this grown man took advantage of me; he used me in ways that left me feeling dirty and broken. It started innocently enough, but then it twisted into something I couldn't control, something that made my stomach churn even as my body betrayed me with confusing sensations. I remember the tears streaming down my face, the weight of his hands, the way I froze and couldn't speak up. Now, years later, I'm sitting in some counselor's office, trying to make sense of it all, and all I get is this push to turn it into some adult fantasy. Like, what the hell? It's not thrilling; it's a scar that won't fade. I feel angry, ashamed, and yeah, sometimes a twisted part of me wonders if there's more to it, if that darkness could ever be something I own. But mostly, I'm just raw, exposed, questioning everything about who I am and what I want. Talking about it doesn't fix it, but getting it out feels like a step toward not letting it define me anymore. I don't know if I'm ready for the 'After Dark' vibes or whatever, but damn, it's real, and it's mine.