More often than not, I like to pretend what happened to me, didn’t.
He’s still out there, living a completely normal life. He pretends it didn’t happen too.
I’m living a normal life too. Moving on and going to college. But I can’t lie and say that some things haven’t been spoiled for me because of what happened.
Pretending that it never happened is easy. I don’t mention it and no one asks. But sometimes…sometimes I go over what happened in my head over and over again. Sometimes I question my perception of it.
I’ve been told that girls will lie about it if they regret it the next day. Did I want it? Did I just regret it?
I must have led him on when we were emailing the previous day. He must have thought I wanted it. I try and go over the story and see if it’s the same every time. Because if I forget one small detail that happened six years ago, I must be lying, right?
Maybe it was my clothes. But it was a hot day in Florida heat. I was just wearing a pair of shorts and spaghetti strapped shirt I would have worn to the grocery store. I didn’t think it was provocative at the time, but what if that’s what set him over the edge?
I should have been looking out for myself. I put myself in that situation. Even if he was a friend, I should have been more careful.
Did I just do something I regretted? Or was it...I don’t know.
I showered afterward in water so hot that it made my skin red. I drank three cups of tea to get the taste out of my mouth. I wrapped myself up in a sweater in a stuffy apartment and threw myself in bed, wrapped in covers, not wanting to ever leave.
He was my friend. My brother knew him, my other friends knew him. He was seventeen when I was just thirteen and I felt disgusting.
I told a friend what happened in high school. I can’t remember her reaction to it, but I know she thinks I’m lying about it now. He was there, and he started eating lunch with my friends and I. So I moved to a different table and made new friends to eat lunch with.
Eventually, that friend started dating him.
I tried to reach out to her. I sent her Facebook messages repeating what I had told her before. She said she asked him and he said I was lying.
I don’t know if he was just lying to her – because no one would admit that – or if he really thought I was lying.
What if he thought everything was okay?
I said no. I remember saying I didn’t want to do it. But I did it anyway. I was scared and he had a knife that he stabbed into a tree. Was he just joking around with the knife, or was it the threat I thought it was?
I don’t even know.