A story I hope to never tell again

We had been friends since 7th grade. We’d met at Missoula Children’s Theatre. His kind of humor was usually put-down humor, but although what he said hurt sometimes, he was hilarious. We became quick friends.

I went to a ballroom dance class, and surprisingly, he was there and he introduced me to his friend Luke. Luke and I also became fast friends with Luke and I talking, almost dating, and then deciding we were both delighted to be just friends. Luke and him are still good friends now.

2018 was the worst year of my life. I was depressed and I’d become numb over the months. I just grew more numb with each day that passed. I cut thighs just to make sure there was some type of feeling; any sensation or sting let me know I was somehow still alive.

I worked as a waitress during this time. Many times, I wasn’t getting off work until 10 or 11pm. My friend and I started hanging out after I got off work. I mentioned that we’d be able to go do something even though most places were closed at that time. He insisted that we just hangout by ourselves.

We were parked in the WalMart parking lot. Although embarrassed about it, I figured it was a safe area because there were so many lights. He started getting physically touchy, but nothing was inappropriate, so I didn’t mind. He kissed my cheek and I turned to ask why but that’s when he kissed my mouth.

I didn’t really think about it. All I thought was, “huh. This is kinda weird.” Maybe this shows some of that numbness? He kissed me again, and I pulled away. It felt like kissing an overexcited dog. Then he goes, “I can’t even tell you how long I’ve been wanting to do that.” I laughed at that. Surely he must be joking! I think he was probably embarrassed a little bit at the fact that I laughed. My dad called, asked where I was, and told me that it was bedtime. I agreed and told my friend that I had to go. He begged me to stay five more minutes, but I had to go.

Two days later, I’d gotten off work late again, and my friend tells me I should come to the parking lot by the Buffalo Wild Wings since I’d said I was embarrassed to be in the WalMart parking lot. Against my better judgement, I decided I’d go, especially since he said other people were going to be there.

I drove over there in my work garb: sports bra under my black button-down shirt tucked into large black pants with a belt I had to cut in order for it to fit my waist and black nonslip shoes. My hair was in a messy ponytail and my makeup was smudged after a long day of work. The picture of tiredness and not very pretty at all. It didn’t help that I could smell food on my clothes.

I arrived at the parking lot where my friend and his car was. Another car with his friends in it left like 2 minutes after I’d parked. My friend said they’d had to go, that it was important. He suggested we watch The Knight’s Tale in my car, and I was like “okay!” I love that movie very much and still do. When we were sitting in the backseat, he became bold again and started kissing me. I pushed him and said I wasn’t sure that this was right. He told me it was fine, pushed me down and started grinding on me and kissing, practically putting his entire tongue down my throat. Every time I tried to move away, he’d make me go back.

I don’t know if I was just in shock, or super tired, or too numb, but it’s like I couldn’t do anything. Nothing about this turned me on whatsoever. I felt dead.

He pulled my shirt off, and when I tried to keep a grasp on it, he laughed and yanked it out of my hand. He kept kissing me and touching my body. He was going to try getting rid of my bra, but it was very tight and constricting on me; too tight for him to pry off while keeping me how he wanted me. He just kissed and kissed me and touched my body all over.

He started unbuckling his belt and unbuckled mine, and I said, “stop—what are you doing??” He did a small smile and said, “sorry; I was just trying to get comfortable.” Then he began taking off my pants. Although numb, I knew it was wrong. As he tried to take my pants off though, a stream of adrenaline ran through me.

I slapped him and got as far from him as I could in the car. He looked at me, stunned. I said, “You can’t do this. I can’t do this. I want to go home, and I don’t think we can hangout ever again.” He was upset and tried talking to me, but I told him to get out, and he did thankfully.

Shakily, I put my shirt back on and barely managed to rebuckle my belt. I drove home feeling more ashamed of myself than ever and did not tell anyone what had happened for a few months. I knew I’d caused the whole thing since I had put myself in that place. I will never forgive myself for that. Not ever.

I told mom the smaller details of it because I knew I had to stop feeling so numb and depressed. It helped some, and she and dad had our attorney send a warning letter to the ex-friend after he spread a rumor that I was pregnant in order to get his revenge against me. That helped a lot. Our attorney also sent his parents a copy of the letter. That was fun.

I feel mostly better now, but I’m still plagued with certain feelings. I’ll have nightmares or start to have lots of anxiety if I see something or someone that reminds me of the ex-friend. Sometimes I’m worried that he’ll try to get me and this time actually do things to me, and that scares me. I just want to stop being tormented by these things. I feel like carving long lines in my thighs again when I think about these things, and although I don’t, it doesn’t make me not want to.

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