A letter from May 19, 2023

Dear A, I guess this is now becoming somewhat of a tradition. I’m having a conversation with no one. But again, these words are for the universe to do with what it wants. The last time we talked was when I was just 21. I’m 24 now. The previous letter that was written was when I was oblivious to our situation. If there is one thing you got correct, it was the fact that I was not in love with you. But it wasn’t infatuation either, it was manipulation. I just turned 21 when we met, and you were about to turn 27. I should have ran away the second you mentioned your ex just turned 18. You’re a predator. You’re a groomer. You’re an abuser. YOU ARE A RAPIST. You raped me. I ******* hate saying that. But as the years have passed, I don’t sugarcoat it. Yes it was ****** assault, but it was also rape. It’s such a disgusting word, it sits so horribly on the tongue. You don’t even know that you are a rapist. Or maybe you do know. The day you completely shattered me was just a regular day for you. Just another day of drinking, smoking, and ******* me until you passed out. I had to pry your limp body off of me after you were done with me. You ripped off my clothes, even when I said stop. You’re an angry drunk, and the *** was painful. It was full of rage. It took me months to realize the things that happened that night. My mind didn’t want to leave, but my body made me flee. My body knew what happened to me, before I could even put everything together. So, yes, what we had was not love at all. T.