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One year and eight months ago. To this day, I still have PTSD symptoms.

We were stargazing in the middle of a field on the back of his pickup truck. The box was filled with blankets and pillows—a date that we had wanted to do because we both loved nature.

All too fast, he was on top of me. One minute, I was finding constellations and chatting with my boyfriend. The next, my wrists and legs were constrained by his hands and legs. He started kissing me, and I tried to move my head out of the way and scream, but I could not. With the few breaths I could get between is aggressiveness, I said his name and told him to stop. He let my left hand free and I tried to push him off of me but I was so weak and he was way too strong. He put his hand under my waistband and I grabbed his wrist and took it away. Eventually I started to regain strength and got my legs free to push him off of me and I sat up in the box just as my friend (who was with us but was inside of the truck, having a text conversation with someone) came back to the box of the truck. Finally he stopped. Finally he quit trying. When she finally got back, we had him bring us home; the ride back was quite silent...I was scared. Who was he really?

It felt like hours, but looking back it feels like it lasted even longer. I haven’t talked to him much after, but I know he denied that he was the aggressor and made it look like my fault. Like I had taunted him or led him on. How would I even...? He told his people that I had wanted him to do that. 

I don’t know a person on earth who would “want” to go through that trauma.

I never filed it or charged him, even though the police are my friends. I grew up around them—my Mamá works with them—but I was just way too scared.

I know it’s not the worst story you’ve ever heard, but it’s hard just like all the rest. It caused me pain, it still does. Grief that’s sometimes unbearable. Nightmares, fear, all of it.

I’m at the point where I have forgiven him, even though he never asked for forgiveness. I’m going to go get trauma counseling, too.

I’d like to talk to him one last time just to say, “I’m not scared of you anymore, I’ve faced my demons. And also—you’re forgiven.”

Don’t feel like you’re alone. We’re all in this together.

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