He doesn’t know.
He doesn’t know I am afraid of him until I tell him except he thinks it is because someone else hurt me.
The idea of him hurting me is so far from his mind he doesn’t even consider it. He doesn’t even realize this all began after that night. After he translated my no to a yes even though I kept saying no and my body was saying no too.
You see,
I made the mistake of becoming his friend afterward; as if that would make it hurt less. As if that would make me forget it. As if the pain would stop mattering.
But
Here’s the thing:
It wasn’t my job to teach him the definition of no. It wasn’t my job to explain what it means to be a gentleman or what it means to ask a girl for consent. It wasn’t my job to teach him that my body was mine, not his.
So yeah,
He’s standing over me like it’s just a thing people do, but I know he can hear my voice shaking when I talk to him.
He doesn’t know,
but I know he knows.
It’s been 9 months, and here I am, still afraid of every step he takes towards me.
But hey,
it wasn’t your job. It wasn’t your fault. No should have been enough. You were taught that no was enough, that you didn’t have to take something you didn’t want. He was the one who was wrong, not you. You don’t have to live in fear that every man is going to turn out the same way.
You already know they aren’t all the same.
Stop trying to convince yourself of anything different.
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