You were a gentleman. Treated me like I had always dreamt about; kind, generous, witty. You lulled me into a false sense of security, made me trust you. For a few hours, I felt like the luckiest person in the world. I had been used by so many men in the past. I had slept with a fair few people but felt like it was all I was worthy of. You took me on dates, made me feel worthy of more than just an ‘easy shag’. I liked you; I didn’t love you, but I liked you.
I don’t know what is worse; the fact I can’t now blink without your face appearing, or the fact that you don’t even know what you did was wrong. For you, I was the ‘drunk’ girl, fast asleep, whose bare arse on top of the sheets was fair game. One warning to stop wasn’t enough. Waking up with your fingers inside me was enough to scare me. I opened up to you and told you about the man in Australia who violently sexually assaulted me. You seemed to understand: “I wouldn’t hurt you; I like you…I don’t love you, but I like you”. It was enough to make me comfortable enough to get back into bed with you. I had poor judgement. One ‘get the fuck off me’ wasn’t enough. Feeling me struggle against you wasn’t enough. You are stronger than me, bigger than me. I was vulnerable and you manipulated that.
Rape is such a difficult word; there are so many different levels of it. When I was in Australia, it was violent, hair pulling, bleeding fucking. This seemed worse. You let me drop my guard, you let me trust you. I may in time forgive you for you error of judgement, but I will never forgive you for inviting my depression and anxiety back into my head. I will never forgive you for giving me more external scars to make up for the internal war in my head. I will never forgive you for making me doubt my entire point of existence in this world.
I hope one day you can understand the issues you have caused, and that if you ever make the choice to have a family, your children or loved ones are never subjected to what you put me through. I really hope what happened was a drunken mistake on your behalf. A drunken mistake that will cause me lifetime of misery, but a mistake nonetheless. If you don’t get charged with rape, I hope you never subject a girl to this again, you gain consent regardless of whether you have already had sex.
Finally, no does not mean yes, and get the fuck off me does not mean please continue.