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Child sexual abuse: On a love story

Padmé LinAugust 24, 2015 | 16:44 IST

Writing a paper, I am plugged in, listening to Taylor Swift's "Love Story".

Marry me, Juliet, you'll never have to be alone.

I love you, and that's all I really know.

I talked to your dad - go pick out a white dress

It's a love story, baby, just say, "Yes".

Pinpricks of tears as I think about my father back home. His cancer has returned.

His gentle smile. My wallflower.

When I was reading and memorising scripture as a child, he would linger at the door to my bedroom, quietly proud.

In high school, he printed out my T-shirt designs and made the boys at the club wear them.

When I wanted to live on my own in my early 20s, he reasoned with my furious mother: Let her be. Just let her be.

Always there, for me. Hovering somewhere in the background.

He saw my pain when in my late 20s, I separated from my partner of six years. He was watching me carefully, ready to catch me. I tried to be brave. For him, for us.

How I long for my own princess story: to be swept off by that proverbial knight on a white horse. Pick out that white dress.

White. White.

Foolish, foolish dreams.

That song again:

Romeo, save me, I've been feeling so alone.

I keep waiting for you but you never come.

Is this in my head? I don't know what to think.

How are you, Papa? I am fine, he would reply. I am fine.

But I'm not, Papa. I'm not.

I miss you.

Read part 18 here.

Read part 17 here.

Read part 16 here.

Read part 15 here.

Read part 14 here.

Read part 13 here.

Read part 12 here.

Read part 11 here.

Read part ten here.

Read part nine here.

Read part eight here.

Read part seven here.

Read part six here.

Read part five here.

Read part four here.

Read part three here.

Read part two here.

Read part one here.

Last updated: August 25, 2015 | 00:26
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