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The Dull Party's Over

by Daniella Cressman about a month ago in social commentary
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Post-Liberation Blues

The Dull Party's Over
Photo by CHUTTERSNAP on Unsplash

It was Friday.

June 24.

A feeling of horror swept over me.

Demons from the night before.

My worth, my dreams, my sanity.

All seemed dependent on a man being with me.

On and off of dating sites despite feeling every man's words cut like a knife.

I'd rather be single. I'd rather be free.

I need someone to think he needs me. To think I need him. To think we could be some semblance of happy but it's not meant to be.

I spend my mornings and evenings feeling like I don't measure up.

I spend late nights, drunk on attention from men in bars who want nothing but my body, sweet lies rolling off their tongues into my mind telling me their lust is good for my time.

That it will somehow feel the void inside my soul.

Left by men I wish I never knew.





Grey from shame.

Black from pain.

A patchwork of the lunatics who hurt me, traumatized me, and left my heart to bleed.

I never felt free—not "little woman" me.

The "object" of the male gaze as far as the eye could see.


I feel like a spirit torn apart at the seams.

Like a quilt that is nothing more than a patchwork of broken hopes and dreams.

I used to feel used.


I feel caged from a place where I couldn't roam free.

Even though everyone said I could be.

Forced to be submissive.

Kept at bay through the shame.

social commentary

About the author

Daniella Cressman


Non-Fiction: I write about the art of prose, politics, culture, &, occasionally, entertainment.

Fiction: I write short stories in the suspense/thriller/horror/mystery genres


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