So much time has passed since we’ve been in high school. I wonder what it is you remember from it.. what you’ve really taken with you throughout the years that have passed.
I want you to know that I will never forgive you for what you’ve done. Never. Thank you for making my Junior year (& as a result of that, Senior year, too) the worst time I’ve ever experienced in my life (& even in years to come from now).
A lot of bad things happened to me that year, and while you may be ‘humble’ enough to admit that you were, at the very least, a ‘mean girl’, you were actually the entire structure of what has hurt me most.
At the time, I chose to be ‘the bigger person’ in the situation.. so there is plenty that you don’t know. Plenty of information that your pretty little head has yet to wrap around. I let you bash my name and you mistook me for someone that was weak. You threatened me physically, and you tore me apart with every word you said.
How funny that you were SO ANGRY at me for something that.. I was trying to protect you from to begin with.
Oh.. where to start. I had a crush on your ex. But that’s what he was: your ex. He told me you two weren’t together. And all of our friends said you weren’t together either. Hm. Yet, to me.. it still felt wrong. I wanted to tell you. But I never saw you. I had hardly spoken to you since Freshman year–two years ago. I asked our friends for advice–they told me not to tell you. That it would make you angry.
It still didn’t feel right. I wanted to ask you if you thought it would be okay for me to ‘talk’ to him. I didn’t know you that well. We were mutual friends from our group. But I still thought to pay you that respect. I inquired for my best guy-friend, at the time, to ask you what was going on between you & your ex–if you were over him. Turned out that you two were still fooling around on the down-low. You were keeping it secret.
But my best guy-friend spilled the beans to you about me & your ex.. because he ‘LIKED’ YOU. I guess he thought this was the perfect opportunity for him to swing in & take you away from your middle-school-boyfriend.
Later you texted me, filled with rage. Shortly after, my guy-friend confessed to me that he told you everything.
I mean, here was your ex–two-timing the both of us. I was as angry as you were. You texted me & asked me to tell you everything. I did. I told you everything. Just like I had wanted to in the beginning. I felt somewhat better thinking that the two of us could go after him–that he needed to be yelled at by the both of us for what he had done–thinking he was sneaky & how he could play with us like that.
But, after that, I never really heard from you.
And guess what happened after that?
Long story short, two guys from our group of friends sexually assaulted me in their car. I kept telling them that it was weird–I didn’t want to do what they wanted to. I told them that I was their friend & that I didn’t want this. I said ‘no’ a bunch of times. But the two of them egged each other on. One of them kept telling the other to touch me, to do all these things to me. I was afraid. I already was losing my friends. I already felt betrayed by my best guy-friend. I didn’t want to lose more friends. I had already said ‘no’, but my voice was small & I was afraid. I stayed quiet. I went numb. I didn’t say anything more and afterwards they took me home.
Why was I even in that situation? Because I had been fighting with my abusive mother. I was out with all of our group and it was getting late. Did I want to go home? No. So I was in that car with our two ‘friends’. Isn’t that something you should understand? How many times have you told the story of how your father is cruel to you & your sister?
Slowly and slowly you poured gasoline all over the fire that was consuming what was left of me. Nobody talked to me anymore. People were calling me a ‘slut’ behind my back. I literally had no more friends, except for the one guy that had liked me all throughout high school. He was the only one that hadn’t betrayed me. Anytime someone had slain my name, all of our ‘friends’ agreed with you.
Then in the cafeteria that one day.. You yelled openly at your ex, in front of everyone. You tried to curse him out in front of everyone for what he did; you made a huge scene. I couldn’t help but cry. It was overwhelming. What had happened in that car.. problems at home.. feeling abandoned by everyone.. and now you were laying out our dirty laundry for everyone to hear. Everyone just watched me cry.
Did you enjoy that? I just want to know.
And what did you do afterward? You messaged me on Facebook. You ‘let it all out’. You bashed my name, telling me I was a ‘whore’ and a ‘slut’. You told me that you had heard about the ‘threesome’ in the car that one night & how I needed to keep my legs shut. How I would end up getting STD’s for being the way I was. You told me how everyone was on your side–that they all agreed with what you thought of me. You told me that you could have had me jumped by so many people & that you were actually doing ME a FAVOR by telling them to leave me alone. You told me that if you ever saw me on the street by myself you would beat me. You told me when I was sitting in the cafeteria crying my eyes out that one day that you wanted to punch my face in. You told me to stop being so weak–that a ‘real woman’ wouldn’t have sat there & cried the way I did.
How dare you.. Who do you think you are? I wanted to tell you off right then & there. But knowing you.. would that have helped? What would you have done, hm? Probably get angrier. More cruel. I was already at my lowest point and you just wanted to pile it on. I let you say what you wanted to say to me. I decided to be nice to you. I tried to be compassionate & empathetic to what you were feeling. I knew you hadn’t had an easy home life. I know that your mother had passed away a long time ago. I apologized to you instead of insulting you back. I said sorry for everything that happened and I tried to explain to you that what happened in the car.. was not something I had wanted to happen.
Then you mocked what I claimed. And continued to say brutal things to me. Imagine that. A woman claiming another woman had false allegations about being sexually assaulted. You told me that if what I was saying was true that it would be ‘rape’. You asked me if that was what I really wanted to say. I had never felt more afraid in my life. Right at that moment was when I really started to blame myself for what happened to me in that car. I reasoned with myself that it wouldn’t have happened if I had really said no. That maybe subconsciously I wanted it or deserved it. I told myself that they were my ‘friends’ so it must have been okay. I tried one more time to tell you that I really didn’t want them to do those things to me, but that I wouldn’t call it ‘rape’. Why would I call it that? I was scared out of my mind.. and I didn’t think anyone would believe me. You were the first person I had told. You dismissed it completely. You told me I probably wanted it.
And, oh great, I got kicked out by my mom soon after. She said she ‘did not want me anymore’. Just that reasoning alone–because we fought all the time.
So I moved away to live with my father across the country, right after that happened.
After a few months, things settled down & I came back to visit my mom for Christmas. You heard ‘through the grapevine’ that I was back.
By that time, I had forgotten about all that had happened already. And how? Because I had multiple panic attacks while living with my father, became physically sick from what was going on with me mentally to the point of hospitalization–and so my mind.. learned to repress things.
I was ‘okay’ when I came to visit my mom, and decided to visit the school for the few teachers I liked and well, because, I forgot about what happened. I actually forgot. Cool, right?
But.. no. You didn’t think it was enough. Almost a year of time passing and you still needed to say more. You had started dating my (used to be) best-guy-friend & decided you needed to tell me that him & I couldn’t be friends anymore. Someone I had been friends with since middle school.. I was no longer allowed to see unless there were at least 5 other people present with us. You told me if you ever caught me with him alone that you would beat me up and I would regret it. You said you were still angry with me for all that had happened. You told me that nobody wanted me here in our town & that everyone wished I would just leave. You told me that YOU couldn’t wait until the day I left back to my dad’s.
I guess because you were still angry with your ex, right? But he wouldn’t talk to you.. so you wanted to take it out on me, right? That was your logic?
Well, I just want you to know that because of you I have been set back even further than I already was by my abusive mother. Only now, years later, do I feel okay with having a guy touch me–and not even just sexually. I’m slowly beginning to trust people again. And my mind has gotten so strong at repressing things that I hardly remember anything from my past–if I want to remember something, I really have to sit there & dig.
I also want you to know that the Universe & the God(s) above have a very special place for people like you.. and you will live there forever, rolling in your own pity. I hope that you can stay blissfully ignorant for as long as you can because they are coming for you.. and you will feel what I have felt a million times over and over.
I guess I should thank you, too, because since I can’t remember what has happened to me in the past & I don’t keep any relationships that distract me–I’ve been able to focus on myself & being successful. I pay for all of my own things, am financially stable, with a good job, my own car, and I am going to be living on my own next month by the beach. Basically.. everything you don’t have. Because.. you still work as a hostess at the local restaurant in our town and live at home, right? I saw you the other day. Almost didn’t recognize you.
Can’t tell if it’s because you really are that worthless & forgettable or if my mind just can’t seem to remember..
Either way. Fuck you.
See you in our next life, when you’re begging me for your life.