It is hard to believe this happened when I was 15. Twenty three years ago. In that time I met someone else, got married, saw both sets of grandparents pass, I had kids one which is 15 (yikes), and still I feel like I am stuck back there 23 years ago. The dreams are so real. The pain is still here. The thoughts still exist. All these things happened like the song says "Time marches on". But one small part doesn't march on. It stays stuck.

My T asked me if I have seen this man in the community and I have. She asked did I confront him or had I ever thought about confronting him. She also said she would never suggest anyone confront another, that it is a personal decision and not hers to make or try to sway an opinion one way or the other. I told her I never, NEVER, want to confront him about what happened. But that I have since spoken w/ him and found something good in him. The something good makes me feel that much more sad though.
He married my best friend from high school. She has two kids from a previous marriage and a child from another incident. The last child has autism and other birth defects. He wares braces on his legs so he can walk. He is very dependent on his step dad who happens to be the guy who raped me. He is so good with all her kids. It makes me see him in a different light to see that these little boys truly love the only dad they have ever known. I don't see him as a horrible monster anymore. I see him as a person who was a monster but who changed to a softened individual after embracing the love of a child. (well 3 of them) What makes me feel bad is my own H is not so good to his own kids. A rapist is better and more loving towards children that are not his and the have serious health issues then someone who didn't do these horrible things. My H has a hard time loving his own flesh and blood, he's never been a rapist. A rapist is better then my H at loving his children, biologically his or not.