Congratuations Terrified Prostitute!

When your boyfriend gets on one knee, your stomach will start turning in knots.

"Please don't do this," you'll whisper.  The sound will rake out of your throat, so soft he won't even hear it.  He'll just keep going, his lips moving, making those dumb fucking sounds that your brain won't recognize until you look at his face and realize that this is really happening and you hear the last two words...

"...marry me?"

You'll start shaking your head at him, so he'll stand up and wrap his arms around you in a big hug.  "Honey," he'll whisper.  "That's okay."

You'll start trembling in his arms, rattling, really, trying to shake yourself free.  When he finally lets you go he'll look you in the eye and ask:

"Are you okay?"

You'll freeze for a moment, tears welling in your eyes.  You'll want to slap him, to say, fuck you, my uncle molested me, of course I'm not okay.  But instead you'll just shout:

"I PUT PENISES IN MY MOUTH FOR MONEY!"

He'll smile his little sad smile at you and nod.

"I know," he'll draw you close and murmur into your ear.  "I still love you."

The world will begin to dissolve around you as the panic attack takes hold.  When you finally come to it will be hours later, but it will feel like days.  Night will have fallen, but somewhere in the interim, you'll have gone to bed with your boyfriend.  You'll stumble out of bet and rush to the bathroom, where you'll close the door and turn on the light.  Inside, under the hum of the CFLs, you'll touch yourself, checking to see if you had sex while you were blacked out.  You won't have, which will make you feel a brief flutter as the fear returns.  You'll imagine the ring, your boyfriend's eyes, flush with puppy love and innocence.  You'll see him on one knee, staring up at your face, the same horrified, exhausted face that will stare back at you in the mirror, and the truth of the world will rush into you in a single moment.  You'll fall to your knees, retching into the toilet, until you hear your boyfriend tapping on the door, asking if everything is okay.

You won't know how to answer that question.  The fear will still have you.

Congratulations Terrified Prostitute!