I know I wasn’t the prettiest girl in high school, I didn’t wear makeup or skimpy clothing. I was awkward around guys and super shy. We were only friends because you thought all of my friends were hot and you thought I’d be able to convince them to hook up with you. None of my friends wanted to even be around you because you were always being creepy, but you weren’t attracted to me so I didn’t see that side of you. You congratulated me on finally getting a boyfriend and wished me well at the end of the senior year.

I was actually kinda happy that you reached out to me last year and didn’t think much when you kept commenting on my appearance. I changed a lot since high school and was finally confident in my own skin. When we were texting you didn’t ask about my boyfriend or ask if I was even single, but we were friends on Facebook so I figured you knew.

You invited me to a party, it was really late but I still agreed to go and see you. I drove 30 minutes to your house and when I got there you were so drunk but hey, it’s a party, right? Only, it wasn’t a party. It was just you. I should have left, I should have known better... but I drove all that way, might as well have a drink. I did notice that you never drank from the bottle like me and noticed that you grabbed weed from a separate jar when you packed a bowl for me, but I really wanted to just have fun and for once not overthink everything. I smoked and drank, but not much; I intended on going home that night.

After the second shot, things got weird. I told you I didn’t feel good and you put your hand down my pants. I couldn’t react; I could barely even speak. I passed out and came to a few times before it was over. I could hear your voice the whole time, threatening me when I wasn’t doing what you wanted. What I was conscious for was absolutely terrifying and you were so aggressive that I feared for my life.

You could see the tears in my eyes as I gathered my clothes and left the next morning; I tried to leave before you woke up but my phone was hidden. I sat in my car for an hour before I could calm myself down enough to drive away and I had to pull over multiple times on the way home because I couldn’t stop crying. I was convinced it was my fault; I shouldn’t have had on so much makeup, I shouldn’t have worn a crop top... You never saw me as attractive or even cute before so this has to be because of something I did.

For months you texted me, telling me you missed me and you wanted to see me... I did my best to ignore you, but when you reached out to me again last month I couldn’t take it anymore. I snapped and confronted you.

You said you didn’t remember anything from that night, but you also told me that we drank and took bars and had a good time. I was angry and I just wanted to yell at you and make you feel bad, but you kept bringing up our friendship in high school and how we could have a relationship like that again if I let you make it up to me. I knew better than to believe you, but I was afraid of you. It took me two weeks to finally tell you to leave me alone and you didn’t accept it. I’m glad I stood my ground and cut you off. I’ll never forget what you last said to me though, “I was drunk, so what I did that night doesn’t count anyway.”

I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to get past what you did to me, but know now that you’re just a fucked up person and there’s nothing about this that was my fault.