I remember telling him to stop. I remember saying how badly it hurt, how hard I tried to push him off, and how nothing I said or did made a difference. I remember frantically looking at the clock. It was 3am — the moment my eyes filled with tears and I decided to give up. There was nothing more I could do but to wait until it was over. I could feel the exhaustion coming from both of us and wished with every bone in my body it would all end soon.

October 25th, 2017. I was paralyzed as I experienced my biggest fear. The bruises and pain helped to remind me it really happened. He wasn’t a stranger. He wasn’t someone who was clearly suspicious or creepy. He was a friend who wanted to grab a drink, and drove me back to my car just fine. It was nothing out of the ordinary. At least in the moment, that’s what it seemed like.

“Do you want to press charges?”

“No.”

What I should have done in those next 24 hours was easy for me. The textbook says to get a rape kit done, talk to a counselor, and most importantly, file a police report. The textbook never said it could be a friend who you liked and trusted. That’s where my conflict lay, where I didn’t want to hurt someone, despite how hollow they left me. It was the day after and onward that made everything unclear and confusing. I didn’t know what to do anymore. I just wanted to forget all of it as much as I could.

Forgetting it was impossible. There hasn’t been a single day since the incident where I have not thought about the hours I spent going from feeling vulnerable and helpless, to feeling nothing at all. Every morning has been a continuation of feeling empty because of what he did, and what I keep thinking I let happen. Maybe if I was loud enough when I screamed, it would have made the point more clear. Maybe if I tried harder, I could have pushed him off more easily. Maybe if I thought it was a bad idea to grab a drink with a friend alone, it wouldn’t have ever happened.

I feel so guilty for what happened, for making my friends and my loved ones go through trying to heal me. I feel guilty for something I couldn’t stop, for something I didn’t plan on doing. I feel guilty for thinking of pressing charges on someone I thought I knew and trusted. Someone I know who has gone through a lot, just like anyone else I know, just like me.

My mind has been numb to everything, whether good or bad. I don’t know how to react or how to feel anymore. I go through the motions of everyday hoping something will eventually make me feel again.