breaking the silence

Last night, while having a conversation with my mother the question that every non heterosexual man hates and detest came up, no not the who's fucking who and enjoying but the one that to me resembles more ignorance than a little bit- "Emotionalbrotha you don't mess with kids do you"- can you believe that shyt, to which I replied no mom, being gat means you like men and the man who molested me let me remind you once again is some "Straight" pyscho pedofile who gets off on raping and bothering little boys and girls. Ok, I said it! This is a topic I've been meaning to blog about for a minute but have never had the courage or strength, I keep telling myself that it wasn't my fault and I was a child and I shouldn't be afraid to talk/write/cry about it- I think the shame and guilt comes from the fact that when I began to break my silence regarding the issue- the questions of is that why your gay arose and lets not mention that I was so mind fucked that at one point and time I began to enjoy being molested- it made me feel special i guess, it was a secret, a curse, it was a blemish that no one could see, and although this man shoved his dick down my throat until i gagged, at some point i started to like it, isn't that sick?? At any rate, i'm speechless, my thoughts aren;t clear i don't know how to clearly articulate what it is that i'm feeling, i gues sadness, angry, shame, guilt, i dont know....