You told me that I could tell you anything, that I could share any problems with you. But you didn’t tell me that there will be drunken devils in my own college.
I bet you’re expecting a letter filled with hate and blame, but that’s not what this is.
Ask yourself if you’re content to date someone you only see once a week for a few hours.
How many times have they abandoned you and only came back when life was beating them down? Have there even been times when they were present when they were happy?
You yearn to belong somewhere, but you never will. You remind yourself of how your uniqueness makes you special and how you’ve seen so much in your relatively short life. So much more than a “regular” person.
I can’t talk about a future with her, she has her walls up. I have to think twice, sometimes thrice, before I say something; just to make sure she doesn’t get reminded of what you did.
If you know that you can’t be what I need, stop clinging on to us, because I know that I’m not yet strong enough to resist your pull.
I liked you. A lot. And I felt this strong connection whenever I was with you. But you never really outwardly expressed that you felt the same way and I didn’t want to ruin what was a very beautiful friendship.
You stopped feeling the same way about me and it killed me. I struggled between trying to let you go and feeling so alone and empty that I needed to fight for you.
The rape shattered how I perceived the world around me: the illusion of safety, my relationship to men and worst of all, my sense of self just as I was traversing the tricky waters of what it means to be a woman in this world. It felt like my wings had been clipped just as I was starting to take off.