My mom had a best friend who lived with her boyfriend, and had two kids. A boy and a girl. I’ve known them almost as long as I can remember. The girl was a year younger than I was, and her brother was two years older than I was. Both of our moms had labelled him a Bad Boy. A problem child. I was mildly intrigued. He did everything I was told not to. He skipped school, stayed out at night, drank, smoked, probably smoked pot or did other drugs. He mouthed off to his mom, and did whatever he wanted to, whenever he wanted. He did everything I wish I was brave enough to do, but too chicken to do the time when my parents found out I did the crime.
Despite my mom telling me I was to have nothing to do with this boy, he and I snuck around behind their backs for quite some time. I remember being so shocked he’d even give me the time of day. Like I had something special, and was honored he’d be interested. It was fun. We would all be together for dinner or whatever, and he’d quickly wink at me and nod his head… then he’d announce that he had “go to the bathroom” and sneak into the kitchen, where I’d meet him because I “needed a glass of water.” We’d hurry to make out and giggle and smile and carry on like no one had a clue what we were doing. I felt like I was in on the hugest secret of the century. He made me feel special even though our whole relationship was a giant secret. Maybe that’s what was so special about it. We were the only two who knew about this forbidden tryst.
He was always pushing the envelope, but it was exciting. Exhilarating. I learned so many things from him. He taught me how to kiss. He was my first French Kiss. I always had butterflies around him. I was living on the edge. Petrified of what was next, but excited to find out what he had in mind. I wasn’t ready for sex, but he taught me about everything he could possibly come close to. I don’t know if I was ever in love with him, but I was definitely coming close.
Our weekends consisted of sneaking around to whichever house of ours that was vacant. Moms both worked, and dads were always outta the picture anyway. Both of us had kid sisters we’d try to ditch, and then we’d be free to hang out. We’d make out for awhile, maybe watch some TV. Flirt incessantly.
One afternoon, I invited him over and we were hanging out in my Living room. We had a black vinyl couch that spanned the length of one side of the room. It was perfect to make out on, because there was plenty of room on it.
It’s funny how you remember details about events in your life. Like, I remember the jean shorts I had on were realllly tight. And they had buckles on the pockets. Looking back on that day, I find myself fixating on my jean shorts so I can try to forget what actually happened. It started like any other make out session, except for this time, he didn’t stop. I begged him to stop… but he wouldn’t. And I couldn’t fight back because I’d broken my arm recently, and I had a cast on that made it hard for me to push him off me. His hair was wet, and the sweat slid from his forehead down the bridge of his nose, and dripped into a pool on my forehead. If I close my eyes today, I can still remember focusing on the sweat dripping off his nose. It’s sad how in a very few short minutes (that seemed like a year) your life can completely change forever. When he was done, and finally rolled off me, I pulled my broken spirit up off the couch, and walked into the bathroom to try to compose myself. My shorts were soaking wet. To this day I don’t know if it was because I wet myself from being so afraid or if it was remnants of him, left behind for me to have to try and wash away.
He called me the next day to apologize. And then never called again.
To make things even more interesting, I had a pregnancy scare as well. After he did what he did- I was 3 weeks late. And I was NEVER late. I took 3 pregnancy tests in a gas station down from my house. Positive- Negative- Positive. I started my period a week after I took them. I just attributed being late to being thru something so traumatic and/or not knowing how to read/conduct the tests. I never told anyone in my family.
Why am I bringing this story up now? 17 years later?
He found me on Facebook, and sent me a friend request.
His sister and I have remained friends over the years. We lost touch for awhile, but a year ago we found each other on Facebook, and we’ve kept in contact that way. She never knew (until recently) why her brother and I stopped talking to one another. And despite my privacy settings on FB set to disallow searches to be done on me, I’m sure he found me because I post on her wall occasionally.
I let the request sit for about a week before I decided I was ready to click accept or deny. I wondered what on Earth he could possibly want with me, and why he would ever be so ballsy to send me a request. I accepted on the grounds that I never got closure, and maybe, just maybe, he was trying to contact me to apologize for the awful thing he did to me.
Right after I accepted his friend request he posted this somewhat vague FB status- something about realizing lately that old friends are important, and he wished that any old friends he’d done wrong in the past could just forgive and forget, so to speak. It was something along those lines. I wish I would have Print Screened it. I sent a message to him:
June 9, 2010 at 10:26pm
Your status is sort of ironic, as I’ve been thinking about you a lot over the past week or so. Whenever it was that you first sent me the friend request. I just don’t really know what to say, or where to start. So here goes:
I dunno that I was ever in love with you really… but I had the biggest crush on you that any school girl in my situation ever could’ve had. I couldn’t tell you if it was the bad boy image I’d heard so much about, or the fact that both our mothers told me to steer clear and stay away. I always loved a good challenge in pissing off my mom. It didn’t help that you had an ass that wouldn’t stop, and you had a cute way about you, especially when you’d wink or smile at me like I was in on some big secret. Whatever it was, I looked up to you. I was always so nervous and had butterflies whenever you were around. It was exciting, and exhilarating, all at once. I don’t know what you thought of me, or if you held me in any regard other than some conquest or some girl who followed you around like a puppy dog. I guess I never did find out, and I’m not expecting you to humor me now, even 17 years later.
What I do remember though, when I think of you, is that day on the couch in my living room. I had a cast on my arm, and I couldn’t break free. And then you called me the next day to apologize. You broke my heart into a million pieces. I felt so betrayed and let down. Taken advantage of. The guy I was so infatuated with really was a bad boy after all. I’m sure my mom would have loved to throw an “I told you so” in there at me, but I never told her why we never talked anymore. I don’t even know if she knew the extent of my feelings for you, or how much we really snuck around behind their backs.
I don’t remember talking to you after that except for when you recognized me in the parking lot at (the Grocery Store by my house). A quick and awkward hello that was over before I really realized it was you.
And now a friend request that has all of the emotional baggage from so long ago swirling around all over again.
Don’t get me wrong, I’m very very happily married, and this isn’t me coming on to you whatsoever. I couldn’t be happier with my husband and I look to spend many more years with him. I guess I just wanna know what’s going on in that head of yours that would make you decide to send me a friend request? I’m really not trying to be rude, but maybe you can shed some light… because right now, all I feel is violated all over again. I’d love to be able to forgive and move on, as your status posts, but I always felt the apology was always way overshadowed by the action.
Care to enlighten me?
Take care, and until next time,
a couple hours later, I received this:
June 10, 2010 at 2:39am
I had always felt the same way. You were the first girl I had ever had feelings for. You are right though, moms did get in the way. it wasn’t like I had a choice. I don’t want to drag up the whole story 17 years later. I have always thought about the decission I was forced to make that day. I know the way it ended had you thinking I was an asshole, but it was better that then the alternitive. I know I am not making a lot of since with this but I promised someone that I wouldn’t tell what it was really all about.
Fact of the matter is that I have always somewhere inside have wished I would have ignored the threat and continue with you and saw what would happen with us. Don’t get me wrong I am married too and am not coming on to you either, I just think you should know how I really felt about the situation.
After we emailed one another, we started IMing. He told me he was recently in the hospital, with heart problems. He was gonna have to have surgery, and he made it sound pretty dire. He asked me not to say anything to his sister or mom about him being sick… that he was trying to figure out what options he had to save his life before he divulged details to them about how sick he really was. I immediately thought he was trying to make amends because he was dying. He didn’t want to take this with him to his grave without apologizing. It suddenly became clear why he’d contact me so many years later.
Over the next couple weeks or so, we sorta became friends. I never called him or anything, but out of a necessity for me to move on, forgive and forget, we would chat every couple of days about stuff. How our lives turned out, our families, and kids. At first it was just fluff. I couldn’t even bring myself to go into details or even talk about what he did to me.
When I finally did ask, he went into some big story about how he made a promise to someone to stay away from me. He told me he couldn’t tell me any of the details, even 17 years later, because he promised this person he’d never reveal this secret detail to me. I called his bullshit and told him that this was all and well, but it made him look bad, and it was a really easy way to pass the buck on and blame someone else for not talking to me. Upon further prying, he went on to say his mom threatened to press statutory rape charges on him if he didn’t leave me alone. She made him swear to never see me again, or she’d call the police. He said he loved me, and wanted a life with me, but he was afraid of his mom sending him to jail. I didn’t really buy that story because we were both kids. He was only 17 when we had sex. There’s no way they could make a statutory rape case stick. His story was slowly beginning to unravel on me.
I didn’t talk to him for about a week and sent him a msg checking on him, since he’d made it sound like he was on his death bed. He sent me this bogus msg back:
June 24, 2010 at 7:52pm
I em having a fwe problums right nwo. This is his friend andy he wanted me to type for him. he is on some heavy medication right now for his heart, he asks something about keeping your word about it, whatever that means. He should adjust to his meds soon, so just bear with him.
I immediately began to see there was something up. There’s no way his friend would be checking his email while he was discussing such a sensitive subject with his past. I wasn’t buying it.
I finally talked to his sister about everything that had transpired over the last couple weeks, and I even told her about what happened 17 years prior. She was shocked. She told me I should contact her mom, but I was too afraid she wouldn’t believe me. Or she’d call my mom, and my mom would call me and scream at me about how I was a whore 17 years ago.
Talking to his sister though, gave me the courage to finally tell this guy what I really thought about him.
July 6, 2010 at 11:43am
I’ve been doing a lot of heavy thinking, along with a heart-to-heart with your sister, and I’ve finally come to some sort of resolution about all of this.
When you first added me, the first thing I said to myself was, “Wow, he has a lot of nerve.” I shoulda just stuck with that mindset, and never given you a chance to speak… because honestly, now I feel like I’ve just been raped all over again. I guess that’s one of my flaws, that I try to be nice to everyone now… I try to make everything right. What you did to me wasn’t ever fixed. And I’d never forgiven you. I don’t like to live my life with resentment, so I let you talk. I let you LIE to me, all for the sake of moving on.
I was good, and actually believed everything you said, until you pulled that stupid stunt “having your friend type for you.” You and I know damn well that was you. I’m too much of a sensitive subject for everyone around you to find out about me. You didn’t have to lie about why you hadn’t got back to me, there was no rush, no hurry, no need to make up some stupid story.
You have some nerve, Chris. I’ve always carried that day with me. If I close my eyes, I can still see the sweat drip down the bridge of your nose and I can feel it land in a pool on my forehead. Even 17 years later. It’s amazing how the mind can lock into things, and never forget them. Maybe you are the reason I’m so freaked out if I’m in bed and get tangled up in the blankets and can’t break free immediately. My heart leaps out of my chest whenever I’m pinned down and feel stuck… trapped. Trapped just like that day in my living room, when you were on top of me, and I couldn’t break free.
I don’t believe for a minute that you didn’t hear me say stop, or that you thought I was ready to have sex. I don’t believe for a second that your mom told you to stay away from me or she’d press rape charges. I think you came, you saw, you conquered… and you had no intention on letting your mom, or me for that matter, stand in your way. I bet she didn’t even know we had sex. I think if she would have, she would have said something to my mom, and my mom woulda screamed and yelled at me for something that wasn’t even my fault. I didn’t even want to. You just helped yourself and took whatever you wanted. You stole a lot more than my virginity and a piece of ass.
You are the reason I was afraid of men. You are the reason I made sure I was never left alone with someone if I felt they could overpower me. You are the reason. You. When you raped me, not only did you take my virginity from me, you took my security. You made me scared of everyone around me. And now you think you can just contact me on Facebook to violate me all over again. You have nerve.
What the fuck did you really contact me for? To relive that moment? To make me squirm from half the country away? Is it funny to you to make people cry because of something you have done? Is that how you get your rocks off now? It wasn’t ironic you posted that status right after I added you. It was completely deliberate on your part. It makes my stomach turn that I even thought for a second that you were sorry. You weren’t sorry back then, when I kept asking you to stop, and you aren’t sorry now. The only thing you have to be sorry for now is that you won’t be able to manipulate me any longer. I refuse to let you try and keep me in the past. I’m not going to believe anymore lies that come out of your mouth. You disgust me, and disappoint me. You are a monster, and I want nothing to do with you.
So you can take your Facebook friend request, and shove it. I don’t want to see you on my friends list any longer, and I don’t want anything to do with you. You’ve stolen enough from me already, you don’t deserve my time as well. You said your peace, and now I’ve said mine.
I deleted him right after I sent the message, and I’ve never heard from him ever again. What kind of monster revisits the scene of a crime 17 years ago. He makes my skin crawl and my stomach turn. Probably his intention in the first place.
I did finally contact his mom a couple weeks ago. And, with his sister urging me to do so, I forwarded her all of the correspondence I’d had with her son from last summer. This is the closest to closure I think I’ll get.
I am so sorry for what Chris did to you, honey, I truly am. And as you guessed, I HAD NO IDEA. I would have done more than threaten him, your mom and I would have beaten him and then some.
I can’t say his lies surprise me, cause that’s all he’s done his whole life. I am so glad he’s never been in the girl’s lives. And for him to swear on their lives makes me want to kill him even more.
I can’t change what’s happened Jesse, but I can tell you I NEVER would have taken his side and I would have told your parents. Even though we butted heads quite often, I always felt like you were family and I hate that you didn’t feel we would have believed you. I love my son but I hate the things he’s done.
You can call me anytime you want to kiddo, and It’s your call as to whether you even want to. I CARE ABOUT YOU AND WILL DO WHAT I CAN FOR YOU. The most important thing to know is IT WAS NOT YOUR FAULT.
SINCERELY FROM MY HEART
I wish I would have said something back then. He deserved to suffer from public humiliation, labelled as a rapist at the very least.
He will ALWAYS be a rapist in my book.
It’s nice to know she would have believed me back then. And she doesn’t think it was my fault. I’ve always questioned that day. Did I do something to warrant it? Was I asking for it? Maybe if I would have listened to our moms. I wouldn’t have put myself in that situation in the first place. Society tries to reassure women that it’s never their fault when they are raped, but then in that same breath women are treated like their lives are on trial if they press charges. It’s not your fault unless you press charges. Then, you are a dirty whore who left your house begging for someone to violate you. It’s no wonder so many women never tell the authorities they’ve been thru such an awful experience. It’s hard enough to be traumatized the first time.
I think this will haunt me for the rest of my days.