“It was a matter of life and death”: what Hannah should have told her ex

Dear T,

I don’t miss you anymore. Neither you. Or the fully constructed image I had of you. I guess that’s what we call” go ahead “. Apparently, this is the most difficult step after a breakup: getting rid of the idealized image we had of the person and the relationship. Tell yourself that life goes on and that happiness is elsewhere.

Still, even if I don’t miss you anymore, it hurts. It hurts because you left invisible scars, but so deep that I can’t heal them. Maybe because this breakup wasn’t like the others. Maybe because I dried your tears when it was me who died, for weeks, months. Maybe because the pain you caused me is more than just pain.

It’s not a matter of feeling or ego. It’s not a matter of” it didn’t work between us anymore “. It was a matter of life and death. Of lies. From you, on so many aspects of your life. For my part, on so many wounds you inflicted on me when you already knew they were there and still fresh.

Today I find myself partially healed. Partly because my feelings for you are gone. I think they disappeared the moment my brain realized what you had put me through and I pushed back with all my might because I didn’t want to be in that position of ” victim “. And especially not for you, not after everything I confided in you about my past. And again.

I trusted youI’ve told you several times you have reconciled me to men “, so that in the end you are on the list of those who abused me.

I will want you for life. I know. No justice, no sanction, no apology, no explanation, no justification will undo the harm you have done to me. Nothing. Nothing at all. Maybe this will calm me down for a few days. Or a few weeks. But that won’t change the facts: you are a rapist and a sex offender.. Even if your family and friends tell you otherwise. Because they weren’t in our bed when you forced me. Because they didn’t know you were touching in public when I told you to stop. But you, you knew. And you continued. And for that, I can never forgive you. Even if you confessed, even if you apologized between one cry and another of crocodile tears.

The victim here is me. Is not you. You have lost nothing. I have lost faith in others, I have lost faith in men. My sanity is at its lowest. I thought about suicide. I almost acted.

I have been threatened and picked on by your friends. I was told I was lying. For what ? What is my interest in all this? There are so many other things you’ve done that could have been enough for me to point out how bad you are.

But I gathered my courage and put together a case for justice. I took some steps. Why would I go into this if I was lying? I have nothing to gain. I don’t want your money. I don’t want revenge. I just want you to get treated. This is lying behavior, right?

Not a night goes by without having nightmares. Not a night goes by that I don’t wake up in a panic, feeling like you’re rubbing against me. You know, like those times you used to when I was drowsy and hit on my anti-anxiety meds. where i woke up and where I was paralysed because I didn’t understand why you were doing this to me. And the next morning I got up and acted like nothing happened. I brushed away the feeling of being dirty and uncomfortable, telling myself that maybe it was because I didn’t satisfy you enough.

It’s time for the shame to switch sides.

Last night I almost dropped everything and gave up everything. And then I thought about the people I could protect by taking this case to court. I thought about the fact that by asking a judge to force you to treat yourself, I could save lives. And that’s what kept me from committing the irreparable. That and all those people who support me and who have NEVER, EVER questioned my words. For them, for all the silent victims because they are terrified, for your future girlfriends, for me, I have to bring this dossier. It doesn’t matter the result. It doesn’t matter how messed up the legal system is and it will try to protect you. It is above all symbolic.

I need to heal and I think I have to deal with it. I have endured too much and kept silent too much.