I find it interesting how you decide to post your “Is an apology correct?” on a website and send it to me over Skype instead of manning up and actually apologizing to me. But I guess I should’ve known you were always that kind of coward. So I decided to give you a post of mine.
Four months. Four months I’ve been spending with knives in my hands, wondering how easily I could wash off blood if I had the tenacity to cut, but I still can’t seem to erase your handprints off my skin.
And the only mistake that you can admit to yourself is that you took my virginity.
Regarding your misguided post:
“We continued dating until December when we broke it off because her parents had found out about our sexual relations and demanded we stopped dating. I was heart broken…”
And what about me, then, dear, selfless O? What about that cold Halloween night when my mom found out about our “sexual relations”? Did that slip your memory? I called you after finding out that she knew, and I cried and cried and begged you not to leave and you left and you left and you left. For what? Trick-or-treating with your friends, leaving me locked in my room, my mother not too far away, wondering how she had managed to raise such a slut daughter.
When my dad found out, it was different. After all, mercy is not a father’s forte. It was the first time anyone had ever told me that they hated me. When he asked me why I did it, how I had stooped so low, all I could think of was that it was because I loved you.
“I think we had a good relationship, we really got along well and complemented and supported each other a lot, just the sexual aspect sort of took over a lot of our conversations the first time we dated and then the one time I goofed.”
Just the sexual aspect… sort of took over… the first time we dated… the one time I goofed. You’ve downplayed everything that puts you at fault, don’t you see? Did you forget the date we had when you pushed me to the ground in a public library, kissing me, when all I wanted to do was talk? And when I turned away, you demanded, “Why don’t you want to kiss me? What’s wrong with you!” And I sat there with a lump in my throat, wondering why it was so wrong for me to not want to be pushed onto the floor in a public library on a date that was supposed to be romantic. “Must be the birth control pills,” I whispered. And I still wish to this day that I had punched you in the face that moment and left you for good.
Did you also forget the way you talked about me like I was a piece of meat? Babe, hottie, sexy… you could never get your hands off my ass when all I wanted you to do was look at my face. And what about all those times you asked me to take my clothes off when we were chatting over Skype, like just talking with me wasn’t enough? And what about that time you slapped my butt while we were making love, as if I were some kind of porn star?
You know, I never resented you for taking my virginity. I resented you because you made me a person who scared me more than anything in my entire life. When we broke up, I felt liberated, like I had been wanting out for so long. But I was wrong. I wasn’t liberated at all. It was just the beginning. For a while, whenever I looked in the mirror, I wouldn’t be able to distinguish my head from my body. It took me a while to stitch them back together and see myself as a whole. I’d cry a lot and take a lot of showers, because I felt like your saliva was still on my thighs. It was awful.
I was so ready to forgive you, O. I really was. A friend told me that if I wanted all this to stop haunting me, I needed to forgive and forget. But then you showed me that post. And I knew I couldn’t do it.
In the end, a simple “I’m sorry” would have sufficed. But you couldn’t do that, could you? You needed to explain yourself. Explain why it wasn’t completely your fault, and leave out the parts that you should really be apologizing for.
But I’m not haunted by you anymore. And I’m happy where I am. Things are where they should be. Maybe we were never the type of people who were meant to reconcile. I hope one day you will find the courage to finally face your inner demons head-on, like I have been and still am.