Mar 22 (Sunday)– to your younger self (you can go back to any time you like)
Mar 23 (Monday)- to your older self (you to jump to any time you wish to)
Mar 24 (Tuesday)- to your present self
March 25 (Wednesday)- to Life
Mar 26 (Thursday)- to Time
Mar 27 (Friday)- to your Dream/Destination
Mar 28 (Saturday)- to someone who’s dear to you.. parents, grandparents, children
Mar 29 (Sunday)- to an old friend
Mar 30 (Monday)- to a stranger
Mar 31 (Tuesday)- to the month of March
I have been toying with this one for a while.. I’ve actually started to find this letter writing therapeutic, so as I started discovering and dealing with feelings two people popped up for this one, one a friend who badly betrayed me and the other a friend who destroyed every single cell of who I was. I think I’m going to write to the second one. If I’m ready.
How do I even start? Hi? Hello? I don’t think you deserve any sort of greeting actually.
So! Here I am laying it all bare, it’s not as if you haven’t already violated me and seeped into every conscious and unconscious thought I’ve had for the past 22 months. So writing to you I think isn’t me giving in and showing you how crushed I am. Instead it is a victory.
You see, you tried to destroy me, you physically, psychologically and sexually attacked me, you used my sexuality against me, you said awful awful things about me as a person and about my body, you rendered me unconscious and then literally pinned me down and tore my soul from my body. Why?
Before that night which seems such a long time ago now, you were my rock! Always there, always had my back.. always picked me up and made me cry with laughter and vice versa. We were so close, I trusted you implicitly, you know full well I have always had trust issues but you broke through every wall. I loved you.
So what in that night changed? Was it my dress? Was it the tiniest bit of cleavage I was showing? People ask me were you high? Were you drunk? I often get annoyed because I don’t think either of those constitutes a good enough excuse for you to do what you did. But maybe the reality is too scary? The fact that someone so normal and lovely can switch like that? What happened?
I know by now that what you did wasn’t about sex, it was totally about power, you said I was too full of myself, that I was a tease amongst other bullshit. You seriously physically attacked me, what you did clearly wasn’t enough for you, you had to make sure I had long lasting injuries to carry my living hell on far far beyond that night. That’s not to mention the psychological hell I go through every single day and night. I don’t understand what I did to make you feel you needed to have power over me like that?
All I did was cry in front of you, Jesus we have had worse things than that in our friendship!! I cried and I let you hug me. You then took a chance to try to kiss me, of course I reacted badly!! Me and you aren’t like that, goodness I slept in your bed in nothing but underwear countless times when we lived together at your mums and absolutely nothing like that ever came up. You know besides the fact you are now married with kids and I am gay 😔I just don’t get it.
I’m trying to get my head around the fact that what you did is all on you. None of it is on me. It’s taken me a lot to write this letter and through the course of it I’ve come to some decisions and to some realisations. One big huge decision is this… I CHOOSE to “come out” as a person that happened to, it makes me physically sick to see or say those words in relation to me but… in the harshest reality…you raped me. There I said it. It’s out. With that decision comes my realisations… you are a rapist, you are a disgusting awful person but that doesn’t make you mine. You are not my rapist and I am not your victim. There is no me and you, I am a survivor of that crime and you are a sick twisted abusive arsehole that did that to me but still… nothing about you is mine and nothing about me is yours.
Another thing I’ve realised.. I can tell my secret if I choose to, I can unburden it and I can work through it when I’m ready. You however, never can, you can’t admit what you did to anyone. Nobody normal would understand and then you’d lose your “nice guy image” in fact you’d probably lose a lot more than that. I really hope it gets to the point where you can’t cope with it, I hope it festers away and slowly eats at you. I mean I know that would require you to have a conscience and I really don’t think you have one… but I will keep hope in my heart of hearts that somehow you feel some unbearable pain that you can’t communicate to anyone.
I am a sister, a daughter, a friend, a cousin, an aunt, a girlfriend, a colleague.. I am a student and unfortunately yes I am in pain, but who is working through that pain in her own time? Who is speaking out and using the worst time of her life to help others? Me! I am a lot of things but I am not and never will be your victim. My body, my mind, my choice, my recovery.
So… go fuck your self with that.