Letter to my Dad
I have to tell you something. You're not gonna like it.
You're REALLY not gonna like it.
I want to tell you that it's not my fault, but I still don't completely believe that. I want to tell you what happened, but I keep putting it off. I can't tell Mom either.
Something bad happened to me in my old apartment. Something really bad.
You remember that call you got when that neighbor was arrested? Well, that part was unrelated to me, but that “neighbor” hurt me very badly. He wasn't even on the lease or anything, just so you know. He was a wanted felon hiding in Hawaii. His girlfriend was renting that place and she let him hide there. She helped him hurt me too.
They tricked me, and really I did something so stupid to put myself in the worse possible situation. I trapped myself, I made myself vulnerable, and I didn't leave. And then they hurt me.
I was so lucky that I left to visit you when I did. His girlfriend left for California on the same day. He was texting me the day I left too. I got out of there before anything else could happen. Then the girlfriend called the cops on him, got him arrested while I was gone. She never came back to fess up to what she had done.
Sorry I couldn't explain to you why I wanted to move out of that apartment so badly. Or why it's taking me so long to get my stuff out of the condo. It's just so hard for me to go back there. I can't even write my message out clearly in this hypothetical letter. What I really want to say to you is:
Dad, when I was living in the condo, my neighbors got me drunk and took advantage of me while I was unconscious.
Or maybe just “Dad, they raped me”.
But I can't even say “I was raped”. Not out loud.
Fuckkkkk, I wish I could explain this to you so badly. I love you so much and I don't want to hurt you with this information. It's such a fucking burden. Besides, that's your condo. I don't want you to come to visit and sleep in that apartment and have to think about what happened to me next door. I don't want you to blame yourself at all. I just want you to understand why everything has been so hard for me... Why I'm not your “genius” little girl any more. Why I dropped out of college after two and a half years. Why I've become such a different person, and why I had to “re-do” my whole life, gradually changing everything.
I want you to understand. But god, I don't want you to love me less.
After writing this out, my verdict is final. I can never tell you. At least right now, I could never see myself telling you.