Dear You,
38 years ago today John Lennon was killed, and 38 years ago this week you killed me too.
You were hosting a baby shower in our home when you announced to a roomful of fancy women with their fancy teacups that I was "as useless as tits on a bull", presumably because I didn't meet your exacting standards of narcissism, hypocrisy or pride. The women were shocked by your words and their mouths hung agape, but their silence was deafening to me. I can still hear it. I could have heard a pin drop but not one of your perfect friends came to my defence, nor did you feel ashamed or apologise for this coldhearted destruction of a vulnerable 12 year old girl with autism. In fact, despite me running from the room and collapsing in hysteria which was compounded by the loss of John Lennon, you said nothing to comfort me. You taught me to fear you, to fear women, and to avoid social situations at all costs. You taught me to fear words and to become mute. These fears ruined my life. I have to take responsibility for not overcoming that trauma but you need to be responsible as well. When I tried to discuss this with you as an adult you claimed it didn't happen. You continue to insult me within the family and now within my community to neighbours, strangers and even my pets' veterinarian.
I don't have the skills to deal with my emotions, and this has ruined the best relationships of my life.
Thanks so much for showing your true colours and Happy Anniversary, even though you don't recall a thing.
Me
_________________
I never give you my number, I only give you my situation.
Beatles