You know who you are,
I can’t say that I forgive you yet. I’m not sure ever will be able to. I can’t prove what you did and there are times I question it but it adds up to you, circumstantial though it may be. You knew I was was done and your insecurity could not accept that.
So you spiked my drink. You thought I would sleep in, wake up next you, assume I had been drunk the night before, and maybe even continue seeing you. That didn’t happen. Instead, by chance and of no desire of mine, I went home with someone else. You called me 4 times that night. I don’t remember any of this. Then you texted me 5 times about that night before I responded days later saying my drink was spiked. Your response? Yeah, maybe it was. Then you continue texting me as if nothing is wrong. But it’s weird because you hadn’t texted me for about a month prior to this. I respond because I think maybe you can fill in the blanks. Instead you drunkenly text me about how we are hanging out. I explain nicely through text that no, I am not interested and that unrelated something bad happened and I can’t be with anyone for a while. Do you respect that? No, of course not. You continue texting me about how you want me, call me four times, and wait outside of my apartment for ten minutes around 2am on a Sunday. In the morning, I text you that your behavior is unacceptable, repeat why I don’t want to be with you, and tell you to lose my number. Do you listen? Nope. A week later close to midnight you text me apologizing only for the texts and telling me how you want us to be friends. You go further and explain that you want to be a friend for me and hope I’ll be a friend to you. Huh, sounds like sex to me. I tell you in no uncertain terms never to contact me again and you respond all angrily.
The problem here is that you are 14 years older than me and yet you act like a 2 year old who’s toy has been taken from him. Except you are not 2 years old and I am not a toy. I am human. I experience pain and betrayal as much as the next person. No, I never loved you but I went out with you. And I decided we weren’t right. You decided to spike my drink and rape me, only instead of you raping me, someone else who wasn’t even aware it was rape did. For me, it makes little difference. Apples and oranges.
And then you try to pretend you care and are my friend? No. All you care about is getting your dick wet. A friend acts differently. If you were my friend when I told you my drink was spiked, you should have asked if I was okay or if anything happened. And when I twice alluded to the fact that something happened, you should have again asked if I was okay, what happened, or if I wanted to talk. You never asked about it at all. You’re just trying to manipulate me.
Despite this, I pity you in a way. I know I will work through this and be a stronger person. You will always be pathetic. If you have to stoop to this, you’re pretty fucked up. The thing is you could be a good person. But you don’t deal with your problems and you let your insecurities get the best of you and ultimately hurt other people. I could be wrong, but I think that makes you hate yourself more. You should. I hope you hate yourself. I hope you look in the mirror disgusted. I hope that when your friends ask whatever happened to that hot, smart, and nice girl that you feel bad. I hope all of this not out of spite but in the hope that you will feel awful enough to want to change and that you never hurt anyone else.