You are not important enough to be “Dear”. It would be too formal to say “To Whom it May Concern”. I cannot say your name without cringing. Aside from formalities, I am writing this to let you know that I forgive you, even though you overlooked me begging you to stop or crying tears of helplessness. I do not expect or even want a reply to this letter. I would not respond or even read it if a reply was sent to me. This letter is for my benefit and only my benefit. It is not meant to give you relief or help justify what you did to me, because you took a part of my soul, my being, and my dignity that night and you will have to answer to your maker for it one day, a day that will not and cannot come soon enough.

I overlooked red flags which could have prevented this ordeal, but, as usual, I was polite and passive. I deemed you a good person and someone who I could see myself being friends with. Initially, I was attracted to you. Although you lied to me about being six feet tall, your short, muscular build suited you. The dark brown, disheveled hair on your head, flattered your porcelain complexion. You enticed me with your big, brown eyes, sensitivity, and charming quirkiness. Unfortunately, I did not see the monster within you. Behind those brown eyes was a man, though I hate to dignify you with that title, who just wanted one thing from me. The thing both my parents warned me about, but I did not heed their advice.

Sitting across from you with a wooden table in between us was nice, though you mainly talked about yourself and how you dropped out of high school, work at McDonald’s, and still live with your parents at the prime age of twenty-one. Our conversation turned to how you grew up and your family situation. Though I am always ready to listen, you started to bore me with your redundant remarks. Nonetheless, it was not a terrible time, just all about you. I should have seen a red flag because of the unprovoked need for reassurance and occasional narcissism. I was naïve, and, thus the “date” went on.

We had some time before the movie we were going to see and decided to visit the pet store nearby, because we both love animals. One insignificant thing that made me uncomfortable was when you held my hand, you did it the wrong way. Instead of interlocking fingers like most people do, you cupped your hand against mine, but I guess most people do not strip the dignity off of other people. Nevertheless, while we were at the pet store, you came behind me, wrapped your arms around me in a way that made me cringe, and whispered provocative things in my ear. This increased my dislike towards you, but, again, I overlooked it. By this point you bought the tickets and I did not want to leave in the middle of the date due to an awkward comment. Frankly, I have yet to be on a first date lacking awkwardness.

After the pet store incident, we started walking towards the theater and I wish I had left after dinner. All you talked about was yourself without asking about my input. I realize now it is because you did not care, but at the time, I thought you were just being rude. Before we got to the place where the usher rips the tickets, I saw a friend who I used to work with when I worked at the movie theater and gave him a friendly hug. You were enraged and told him to get his hands off your girlfriend. I was in a state of shock that prevented me from correcting you. We just kept going and I did nothing.

Walking into the theater, you suggested we sit in the back “to see the movie better”, but I sat at the place where you could put your feet on the bar in the front of the theater. I prayed you would not be so bold as to try anything front and center, but I guess God works in mysterious ways; he did not answer my prayer. Every ten or so minutes you would do the whole yawn-and-stretch bit and try to get me to kiss you. I have two personal rules where I will not kiss on the first date or in a movie theater. The first is for my virtue and the second is because I used to have to break up couples kissing in the movie theater. I explained it to you over and over, but I guess you thought I was kidding. After an hour and twenty or so minutes of this, the lights finally came up and I had never been more excited to go home. Just when I thought I could break this whole “friendship” off, you asked me for a ride home, because your parents were asleep. Reluctantly, I said yes. After all, you only lived two miles away. On the ride home, you asked me to be your girlfriend and it took everything I had to not reply with a repulsed tone in my voice. I told you I still had feelings for an ex-boyfriend, but, honestly, you were just too inept for my taste. What happened next changed my life, and most certainly not for the better.

After you tried to guilt me into dating you by telling me you already told your parents that we already were dating, I pulled into the court your house was on. You wanted to talk for a little while more and I pitied you, so instead of leaving you at the base of your driveway like I should have, I stayed. I unbuckled my seatbelt and turned the car off. You kissed me and, at first, I did not try to stop you. Then you started pulling my leggings down and my sweater dress up. I panicked and froze. I said stop, no, and other obvious phrases of protest. Instead of obliging, you just pulled me into the backseat and the rest is too vulgar to type. It only took you about two minutes, but it felt like hours. How did you not see what you were doing was wrong? Did you not see my tears or hear my pleas? I asked you to stop, but I guess I was muffled by your hand over my mouth or it was lost while you were choking me. When you finished, you kissed my cheek, said you loved me, and sauntered into your house like you ruled the world.

I laid there crying because I could not do anything else. I thought about how death would be better than what I just went through and understand why many victims commit suicide after an assault. Finally, I pulled myself together to go home and cry myself to sleep. I never reported this because I never want to be called a victim. Thinking about going through a trial and testifying in open court all the disgusting details of what you did to me made me sick. Throughout this letter I have been discussing everything that I did wrong, when, in fact, my only crime was being a nice girl. Though I will never report what you did to me, karma will come around like it always does and I do not intend to speed up the process.  I stand by my decision, but the day you die, I want to be there to see the light leave your eyes.