The thoughts may subside, but the past will never leave your mind.
So when is the right time to let go? When does a person let go of the friend who doesn’t care? We used to talk every day, even though we didn’t see each other often. I listened to your problems. I helped you with relationships. We went to prom together. I don’t expect to talk to you all the time. Every now and then is fine. But people change. You believe men are superior to women in all aspects, work and socially. This guy who was a friend once upon a time become an overly masculine, stubborn guy
Work: Men have higher paying jobs than women because they’re better at working than women are. You think elementary school teachers don’t need to know anything. Yes, I (a female), am studying to be a teacher, yet you Mr. ROTC/business guy asked me why all your friends are doing better than you are in classes. Obviously, you are not superior if you have to ask me why you aren’t getting good grades. You’ve failed classes and received Ds in multiple classes. You don’t fucking study hard enough. You aren’t that stupid, but you don’t appear that bright either. I think ROTC and business are wonderful things to do with your life. When we were really good friends I used to be upset you wanted to go into the army because I worried about losing you. Now… I don’t know if I care because it seems like I’ve already lost you.
Socially: In society, men are better than women because they’re stronger. Please. We aren’t in the stone age anymore. We don’t base things like rights and respect off how muscular someone is or the fact that they have a damn penis. And of all guys I would ever have a conversation with, I expected more from you. You know I was sexually assaulted by a guy. I thought you’d understand that I’ve already been violated because of the idea that men have more power than women. And you told me all of this about one year after the assault happened. So really. Why should I be friends with you?
Based on this one fucking conversation, in addition to the many things I’ve learned about you, I don’t know why I still consider myself friends with you. Just because you say I will be a good teacher doesn’t make up for you saying my job is stupid, my kids will fail, and it doesn’t take any knowledge or skill to be a teacher. Listening to me initially after my damn sexual assault doesn’t mean I will ignore your recent degrading thoughts about women. And finally, you didn’t tell me happy birthday. It’s one of the simplest things a friend can do. Shall I just cut off all ties to you now? For the past year and a half I’ve really tried to rationalize my friendship with you. I’m running out of reason to do so. Why should I? You obviously don’t really care.
I’ve acknowledged the thing you did to me, but I haven’t acknowledged you recently and today feels like a fitting day. So here it goes. I HATE what you did to me. I absolutely hate that you thought that was okay and thought you could get away without a word. You are fucked up. I can’t believe you claimed to “respect” women. And I still can’t believe I fell for your sly tricks and seduction. You are a coward. You couldn’t come clean to your friend and you couldn’t apologize to me. I think that shows a lot about your shitty character. I still don’t know if I can say I hate you based on the little moment your path crossed mine, but I know I have every fucking right to hate every bit of you. But you know what? In the perfect words of Harry Potter to fucking Voldemort: “You’re the weak one. And you’ll never know love, or friendship. And I feel sorry for you.” I really do feel sorry for you. But please, continue being the pathetic, weak, and arrogant asshole you are. I won’t intrude.
It amazes me how many people have been sexually assaulted. With some context clues, I’m pretty sure I just found out two of my friends were. It’s not fucking fair. No one should ever have to go through assault. It is fucking traumatizing and it has the ability to completely change everything you thought you knew about yourself. And it freaking scares me how fucked up some people are… that they think they have the right to take advantage of someone. People are not just bodies! There are fucking identities within those bodies. And sexually assaulting someone points out the people who truly respect others versus those who just put on an act.
I swear I saw your face today. I was at a restaurant with my family and I swear you were sitting in the waiting room with a girl on your lap. I literally saw you and walked outside. I couldn’t stand in the same room as you. I stood there and thought of every way I could confront you. You ruined me. You made me insecure and crazy. I didn’t want you, asshole. How can you live with yourself? How can your girl even like you? How could you be so disrespectful to your friend’s friend? What did I do to you? I didn’t want you violating me. I HATE YOU. I HATE YOU. Eventually I got myself to go back inside and enjoy my meal, but I was always on the look out for when you were leaving. And when you did leave… it wasn’t you. At least I don’t think so.
And I can’t help but think I am losing it. You traumatized me so much that I feel like I see your face in other people. I get more anxious and panicky than I ever did before you invited yourself into my personal space. I sit in class sometimes and can’t speak or focus because I feel so uneasy. “Not everyone participated today”… I’m sorry. I’m trying my hardest not to burst out of the classroom. Sitting still is hard enough.
So really Mr. Asshole, as much as you wish to deny the effect of your actions, you fucking traumatized me and this is something I cannot forget. People say forgiving is the best thing to do and that it gives some closure, but I think it is impossible to forgive someone who has no true regrets or understanding of the consequences of his actions. And that is coming from someone who likes to give people the benefit of the doubt and give second chances. You hurt someone else and you don’t understand that your actions have long term effects. I don’t want you to die because that is callous and I am the better person. I know I am. I mean, I understand boundaries and respect miles better than you do. So really. Don’t die and rot in hell (yet), but I wan’t you to forever regret your actions and be haunted by your terrible mistakes. Its a mental hell. That is where you put me, so you should be in your own mental hell too.
[Trigger Warning: Sexual assault]
His body presses against mine. Pulling me closer. Forcing his body, easily a foot taller, to bend and turn into mine.
His hands, so strong. They rip away the barrier I set around myself. The barrier I didn’t want taken down, so quickly defeated against my will. Gripping and stroking my waist, legs, hips, and everything in between. Those hands close over my own and move onto his body.
His lips and tongue suck out my voice and my confidence. The forced pressure of his mouth on mine. He whispers into my ears. “Look at me”, “Kiss me”. Who is the focus on? “Make yourself comfortable”. How can I?
The darkness of the room is only disturbed by the dim orange beam of light from outside and the blue glow of the alarm clock. Not a sound besides the few words spoken and the sound of your mouth on mine. Your heartbeat. What some find a comforting natural movement when being close to another is now something I fear to feel against my own body.
How do I get rid of him? How do I escape? Is now a good time? What am I doing? What is he doing now? Oh god, how do I get this to end?
I have no sense of time from that night. Was it an hour? Two hours? 30 minutes? How long was his body against mine? How long was it before he started squeezing all of me? How long did I force myself to kiss him? How long was it before he started feeling me up? How long was I straddling his body?
How long did I lay there after I finally got him to leave my bed? How long did I sleep that day? Maybe an hour? What did I do the rest of the time? Replay the event over and over, trying to find anything that could have made him think I wanted him there.
How long did it haunt him? Not long enough. Does he feel bad? Yeah… for himself.
How long did it haunt me? Too long. It still does today, nine and a half months later. His body, hands, and voice find a way into my everyday life. He probably thinks his actions are done and in the past, but some days they feel as real as ever.
I am tired of people disrespecting and taking advantage of me. All my life, people have told me I’m mature. I don’t argue back when people say rude things because “if you can’t say anything nice, don’t say anything at all”. Right? And I do the extra work because it is bettering me and the other person is losing out on the ability to learn for themselves. Right? I realize that what some people see as maturity can also be seen as something different. And I just got that. I am passive.
But I am fed up with this. Look where it got me. I let people walk all over me from middle school on. I have devalued my opinion for years because I thought I was being mature. I did all the work on the projects. I kept my opinion to myself in order to avoid conflict with my friends. I devalued my body when I let a guy try take advantage of me. Recently, I let people’s words tear me down internally, without a single word back to them (until I hit a breaking point). And even more recently, I devalued all of me when I accepted what my mind was doing to me. I gave no effort to confront my problem because “that’s the way it is”. But that’s in the past. I will slowly change my ways. I am passive now. But I won’t always be. I will be assertive one day.
Or is this just the anger talking? Is there a way to be assertive while still being respectful? I need to find a balance.
His kiss. His hands. His body. I wish they would go away. Definitely less apparent in my mind now, but still hiding in there, waiting for the prime opportunity to reveal themselves once again.
He was here. In this new room. He waltzed in, put his duffle bag down, greeted my friend, and chatted it up like it was no big deal. Soon enough he walked over to me laying in my bed. He grabbed my hand and my mind rushed into the panic that occasionally overcomes my mind. He was touching me. His grip on my body once again scared me into saying no. No. I’m sorry. I can’t do this. I’m sorry. No. I’m sorry. It was happening again, just as it happened that one night and replayed, replayed, replayed in my mind so many others. It felt so real. I hate you. I hate you. I hate that you did this to me. But I said nothing. I just stared emptily back at him. He finally let go of my hand and walked away, returning to his conversation. I wanted to let out a sigh of relief or a scream of anger, but I didn’t. Because this is one fear I’ve yet to conquer… Dreams (or nightmares) really can scare you.
I hate the song knock you down by keri hilson. I used to like it… then you son of a bitch asshole sang some of it in my room. And then you messed with me a month and a half later. I can still hear your voice sometimes. And sometimes it hurts. Not today. But still sometimes.
I am so beyond frustrated with my dad. And this will probably sound like a little 13 year olds rant so sorry. For starters we don’t get along well. Besides that he has said the most disrespectful things recently. he fucking knows I was sexually assaulted but he just doesn’t understand.
All summer I haven’t been sleeping well and my parents did nothing. After opening up a few days ago they said they would help me and since then my dad has become bossy as hell. Pretty much I do not appreciate what he is doing. Thanks for trying but your attempt sucks balls. Ignoring my assault since i told him then trying to tell me what to do like he fucking understands how i feel each day. This doesn’t help in addition to his disrespectful comments of “you’re so bitter”, “you’re no fun”, and many more. he doesn’t get that his words and actions are not only tearing me down further, but also making our shitty relationship worse. HE DOESN’T UNDERSTAND THAT I AM FREAKING TRYING MY BEST EVERY DAY. I literally have never been so excited to leave home.
I hate that my parents assume sleep is my only problem, that they can fix it and that it is not the result of other things. But also that they think they understand it. Like my dad used the example of waking up at 5 am occasionally. That’s not the same as fucking 3 months of not sleeping or hardly sleeping at night. Not even fucking close. Idk I guess we’re talking about my sleep issues more when my mom gets home. Hopefully their fucking ideas will change.
I didn’t want you in my bed. I don’t want you in my mind. And in both instances, past and present, I can’t get you to leave me alone. Why did you do this to me?
It’s July, but right now I can’t help but think of January. My mind and body; attacked and manipulated. It feels as real as ever. And all I want right now is for tears to fall, but I can’t make that happen. Until I can cry, I will shed dry tears, waiting for the day real ones can come to my eyes instead of just to my mind.
I could ruin you in a second. I could expose you for who you really are and what you did to me with one sentence and the click of a button. It would truly be that easy. You with your well liked persona would be ruined. I’m sure you would deny what you did or downplay it to make it seem like it was ok. Easy escape for you since you’re so well liked for some reason. You were too weak to confess without being confronted, so you’re obviously too weak to handle all the hate that would come from the thousands of people that find your bullshit words so intriguing.
But I can’t bring myself to do that. It’s not worth ruining some asshole’s life. What good would come from that? And I am the better person. I really am. I know that. And to me, that is enough for now. It’s not closure, but it is enough to keep me from tearing you apart. That’s not something I would do. Exposing you for your indecent actions… Now that would be so great. But adding that drama to the mix doesn’t seem worth it. That is just so juvenile. If you can’t handle a problem in a mature manner by the time you’re out of high school, well then you have some growing up to do.
So please enjoy your reputation now. Although I am usually very controlled, one day I could be really upset and go crazy. And maybe I would throw it out for the world to see. But for your actions, you should have to live with that constant fear that you could be exposed as a manipulative and uncaring individual any minute, contradicting your current facade. But really, I mean this with all my heart: have an awful day, you dick.