TW: Abuse, Rape, Self-Harm

(Just those tags should be reason enough, right?)

My ex and I broke up almost a month ago. After a year and a half of dating, a once-beautiful romance had deteriorated into a toxic, unfixable disaster, and I was miserable. I called it off. I didn’t trust him, and he denies it but it was clear for months that he didnt love me anymore. There was no romance, no spark, no deep bond- just two friends having sex and arguing all the time. I couldn’t do it anymore.

In the two weeks following our breakup, he harassed me every day. I couldn’t block every social media, phone number, and email account he had because he would make more. We’re both in college and I work part-time and I would leave work stressed out from the extremely emotionally charged messages he’d send. Some accusatory, some wanting me back, most just desperate for a response, no matter how much I begged him for space. It peaked when I found out he broke into my room while I was at work and went through it. I had to put in a room change request form so he wouldn’t know where I lived. I finally met him in person and he agreed to stop harassing me and apologized for going in my room.

A few days later, finals were over, and I had a big win on my class grades- my first 4.0 semester. And I had no one to celebrate with because all our friends were his friends too, and most had already gone home for Christmas. In a moment of weakness, I asked him if he wanted to meet as friends and get milkshakes. Everywhere was closed and we ended up at Waffle House. It was actually nice. He felt like a friend instead of an ex. He was respecting my boundaries. I was back with my person and able to freely hang out.

I got too safe.

He invited me over to drink and celebrate the semester ending with him and his roommates, and I agreed. I missed his house and his roommates too. We ended up getting really drunk and around 4 am I fell asleep on the couch, and barely stirred as he carried me to his bed.

I remember him talking to me about wanting to work things out and I remember saying we couldn’t, but I was extremely drunk and barely conscious through all of this. As he talked, he kept getting closer to my mouth, and then started making out with me. I kissed back and more than once he tried to take off my pants and I remember telling him no every time until I eventually just left the room and stumbled to the couch to sleep. He followed me out there and curled up against me and continued trying to convince me to get back together while I begged him to let me sleep bc I had plans at 11 and it was well after sunrise.

I finally left and tried not to think about it. I took on the blame of having gone there and kissing back and texted him later to say it changed nothing and meant nothing, we aren’t getting back together. He argued against everything I said

A few nights later, we ended up hanging out again and I almost wanted to have feelings for him again. But the stalking and harassment was still clear in my mind, and I just wanted to be friends for a while.

Later in that night, I ended up confessing that during the time he was harassing me I hid from him by spending the night elsewhere. One of those nights I ended up hooking up with a guy friend I knew. He took this news really hard and I hated hurting him, but he had asked me to tell him if I had sex with someone new bc that would make him actually start moving on. So I told him.

He ended up back in my room asking questions I didn’t want to answer and I wanted him to just leave; I had already told him what he needed to know. But I have a horrible guilt complex that makes me easily manipulated so I ended up in a panic attack over hurting him and not being able to leave or kick him out without hurting him more. At one point in the night I self-harmed, an addiction from when I was much younger and much more depressed.

He held me to calm me down and I ended up falling asleep in his arms. Only I couldn’t seem to stay asleep. I kept dozing in and out of consciousness. He was rubbing my back, which relaxes me but also kept me awake.

Then I noticed every now and then he would reach around and touch my stomach, lifting my shirt a little more each time and then starting to go a little higher, so that his fingers were tracing around my boob but not touching my nipple. I laid there frozen, seeing how far he would go.

Eventually I yanked my shirt down and rolled onto my stomach.

He apologized and begged to stay. I was exhausted and just wanted to sleep so I told him not to touch me. After about an hour, he had inched my shirt up again and went as far as to start reaching down my pants just into my underwear too. At one point I felt him lift his head up, high enough to see over my shoulder.

This time I waited to see how far he was going to go, but it was like before, where he was definitely and undeniably touching my boobs but purposely avoiding the nipple. Finally I rolled onto my back and pulled my shirt down and stared him down and said, “Get out.”

He began apologizing, begging to stay, saying he “didn’t realize,” etc. that it was on purpose the first time but not the second. I berated him. Asked him how he’d feel about someone doing that to his mother, since he clearly didn’t respect me. Telling him there is no possible justification for breaking my trust. That no explanation validates it happening twice. That he had to leave immediately.

I haven’t spoken to him since, except a ten minute phone call on Christmas. Since that happened (on the morning of the 18), he has texted me every single day, from two text free numbers and his main number. Apologizing, begging for me back, telling me about his day, saying he’s sorry for getting mad at me for sleeping with someone else and that I had every right to.

I want to hate him. I want to block all his numbers. I want to be happy that he’s apparently been left behind by his family a lot this break and has been absolutely miserable throughout the holidays. I know if another girl told me she went through what I did, I would be filled with glee any time that man was miserable.

But I can’t.

It’s all I can do not to text him back, call him, help him through his loneliness and sadness. And I hate that because I SHOULD hate him.

But I still love him. Not romantically. But I do. And I think more than anything I’m just extraordinarily hurt and betrayed that I gave this boy more love, respect, and grace than anyone could ask for, and he violated me. I can’t help after that last night together but think him inviting me over to drink was an intentional attempt to rape me. To get me past the point of mental clarity, so that he could do what he wanted with me. And I hate that so much. I feel so weak and stupid for even going over there and even more so for inviting him over a second time. But I also know I would never think that way of someone else who went through that. To trust someone that much and have it so deeply betrayed is not the fault of the one who did the trusting.

Why can’t I hate him for it? Why can’t I be cold and silent or else fiery and angry and pissed off? Why am I still putting him?

I think I needed to get this out somewhere. I don’t know what kind of response I’m even looking for. I think I just needed to tell someone. I’m home for the holidays and haven’t had a moment alone with my mom who I desperately want to tell but she might actually kill him, and I never get a chance to tell her anyway.

Anyway. That’s my story. If anyone read all of this, thank you for listening.