I was finished. I wrote you off, I blocked every form of communication and I was finally ready to rid my life of you.

Two months later… you came back. You found me. You sucked me back in. You made changes, you met important people to me, I was about to meet your little girl. I was ready to be what I had always wanted, with you, together and in love.

Only two weeks into the bliss that I’d found myself in, some unfortunate news came to my attention. It was never about your inability to feel as deeply as me… you just felt that deeply for someone else. You had a girlfriend of eight years, and I just found out.

After confronting you, crying, questioning everything, you said your apologies, reassured me it was over a while ago. Who is stupid enough to believe that?

I haven’t heard from you since that phone call. That call was two weeks ago.

The love that I have had for you hasn’t wavered… but my heart can’t take much more. I just want to scream at you. I want you to want to make it up to me. I want you to want to talk to me.

No.

I want to rid my life of you.

Dear Steve,

Please do what you’re best at, remain distant and do not even think about speaking to me ever again. Thank you for teaching me the signs that I need to look for, moving forward, that should warn me to stay away from someone. Thank you for the occasional happiness. But I cannot say that I thank you for how you changed me, how you made it incredibly difficult to look at a couple and not question if everything that one is saying to the other is absolute bullshit.

These are the last words I will speak to or of you; I’ve wasted enough.

Never again,

A Victim.

I've never been truly terrified of another person; until two years ago, I never thought I would feel physically ill at the sight of another human being.

Working at a startup, you usually get very close to your co-workers since you spend majority of your life with them and there's only a few of you. When I had my first startup career experience, this was the case for me. My co-workers and I were more like family than colleagues or friends, even. After work (whenever that was), we would hangout. Weekends, we were all together. We even took little trips together.

I remember the day he started working with us; we'll call him Joe. Joe started about eight months after I had began working there. The first day he started, I knew there was something 'off' about him. Joe was the definition of charming; his ability to compliment everyone in a way he knew would land was pretty impressive. All of my co-workers loved him right away, but for some reason, I could not get past something. I racked my brain, trying to understand why I felt unsettled around him; I could not validate my reasoning for my hesitation, so I joined in and welcomed him into our group.

A short, few months later, Joe, myself and a few others went on a weekend getaway to a cabin in Gatlinburg, Tennessee. This was the weekend I started to understand my hesitation in trusting Joe.

Fast forward a few more months, right before my birthday in September -- I had accidentally shared a sensitive Company document with a co-worker. Although no harm was done due to my mistake, I was placed on a three day suspension as punishment. Those three days were brutal; I spent all hours of those days working on backlog projects, any work that had been missed, perfecting spreadsheets and I drafted a plan of action to correct my mistakes. Although I was going above and beyond to prove my value, I could not help but feel sick wondering if they would even want me to keep my job or if I would return from my suspension only to be sent right back out the door.

For time's sake, I'll keep this part short -- this job changed my life and changed me into a person I never dreamed that I could be, knowing where I started. This job meant more to me than it did most of the other people that I worked with. Despite my unconditional love and appreciation, the 'startup life' took it's toll. The amount of hours spent in front of my computer, at the office, relentlessly working, caused a hefty load of stress. The stress and hours, along with lack of sleep, really warped reality for me -- now that I am out, I am able to see how wrong it was to punish myself the way I did during this suspension, along with a lot of other wrongs that I can now see.

It's the last day of my suspension, the fear of returning to work is nauseating and panic has set in. I cracked open my third beer by 5pm.

My good friend, co-worker, let's call her Jane; Jane calls me a little after 5 to check in. I'm crying on the phone, but trying to convince her (or maybe both of us) that I am okay. Being the great friend that she was, she didn't take that answer and she drove to my house, but not before stopping at the liquor store to get some Tequila, of course.

I get a text, "We're almost there!" and I immediately responded "Who is we???" only to find that it was Joe. I had been doing my very best to avoid Joe outside of work after the trip we all took, well there goes that.

Joe and Jane show up, I hold back animosity, we take shots, but wait, why is Jane leaving and why is he staying?? I feel myself fading, and then I'm gone.

I hear my alarm blaring in my ears, I jump and sit up, remembering this is my first day back. Oh god, my hangover is only going to get worse from here.

"Why the fuck am I naked?!" I grumble to myself, confused. I feel heat fill my face, my heart pounding heavily when my eyes see the body laying in my bed next to me. There were so many questions running through my head, I was so confused and then, he turns over, fully clothed -- Joe was in my bed, smiling at me, rubbing my back and my jaw dropped.

"Oh my god... did we.. ?" I could not even begin to process whatever was happening.

He smiles and nods. I buried my face in my hands and mumble some things along the lines of 'oh god, no'.

Then I had to drive the two of us in to work, together. Kill me, that's all I wanted.

My brain remained mush the entire day and the reality of what had happened was not processing. So I updated Jane.

"Are you fucking kidding me? You know that's rape... right?"

It wasn't until about a month later, although I had tried so hard to shake it off and dismiss such a horrible thought, I realized I was raped, by my co-worker who I was forced to see day-after-day at the one place I had considered safe.

It wasn't until about two months after the fact, that it really hit me and I couldn't hold it in any longer. Once I said it out loud for the first time to one of my other close friends and co-worker, it was suddenly real. All of a sudden, I could not pretend that nothing happened. It was real and I couldn't handle it.

Two years later, I still have not done anything. I never pressed charges, work couldn't do anything, and I never talked to a professional.

Two years later, I'm still fucked up. I have tried dating, but the intimacy that I can provide only goes so far. The longer I go with the fear to let another man into my life, in a romantic way, the more impossible it seems that I will ever allow myself to be vulnerable.

I am okay, and I am going to be okay -- but it hurts still.

Fuck you, Joe. I hate what you did to my body and to my heart.

“Class, settle down. Let‘s get back to the reading.”

The class silences, as the teacher turns her fiery gaze back down to her bible.

“So what do we think it means when they say “You shall not lie with a male as with a woman; it is an abomination.”?”

”Yes, Chris?”

”It means being a homo is a sin.“ He laughs.

She replies, in frustration, “You know that is not the proper use of that word. Assuming you meant ‘being gay’, that is correct: being gay is a sin.”

I can only imagine the confusion written all over my face. My teacher looked in my direction; my inner monologue was intensely advising her to call on anyone BUT me. To my relief, her eyes landed on another victim.

My friend, who sat right in front of me, turned in her seat, “Homo. Ha ha” she smirked at me.

“How is being gay a sin? Sin is something we do by choice, right? So why is just simply being gay a sin??” I asked her, honestly wondering how we were supposed to comprehend this.

“I guess you choose to be gay? I’m not sure.” She shrugged.

“Well I don’t choose who I like. Do you?”

“No, I guess not.” She looked down at her jumper, confused now too.

There we sat, 10 years-old and questioning the intellect and reasoning of not only our teacher, but the entire book we had been raised learning.

This was the first time that I questioned the credibility of something I was supposed to blindly believe. This was the first time that I realized that I did not agree with the Bible; and this was the first time that I realized I was going to always be someone that would fight for the unaccepted.

Dearly Beloved,

You and I are gathered here today to unwillingly witness the demise of what we used to have, which is a dishonorable act, that is to be ended and forgotten about, in a disdainful and sober state.

Into the estate we are not present and we let go of any hope we once had of joining.

If you can show me just cause why we may be together, please speak now or forever hold your peace.

Allow me to speak in total cliche, I knew you were my one the moment our eyes met. The crowd of people, the company I kept, all faded into a blurry background; all I could see was you. To this day, I will never forget the image.

My favorite time is my time spent with you, even if it’s unpleasant. My heart pounds when I see your name, when I see you, when I hear your voice, when you smile.

There’s no one else I want, you’re all I see.

No matter how much love that I have for you, it cannot account for the lack from you.

Your eyes don’t look at me the same way that mine look at you. Your heart doesn’t long to be near me, to hear me, to feel me.

We have exchanged our promises and given our word, the promises have been broken and words not kept. By these acts we have become a memory of what once could have been. I hereby ask you to let me go, let me mourn the loss of what we had and free my heart of you -- it’s broken and I would like to have it repaired by someone who will take better care.

By the power I’m managing to find to write my plea, we will never kiss again.

Dearly Beloved,

You and I are gathered here today to unwillingly witness the demise of what we used to have, which is a dishonorable act, that is to be ended and forgotten about, in a disdainful and sober state.

Into the estate we are not present and we let go of any hope we once had of joining.

If you can show me just cause why we may be together, please speak now or forever hold your peace.

Allow me to speak in total cliche, I knew you were my one the moment our eyes met. The crowd of people, the company I kept, all faded into a blurry background; all I could see was you. To this day, I will never forget the image.

My favorite time is my time spent with you, even if it's unpleasant. My heart pounds when I see your name, when I see you, when I hear your voice, when you smile.

There's no one else I want, you're all I see.

No matter how much love that I have for you, it cannot account for the lack from you.

Your eyes don't look at me the same way that mine look at you. Your heart doesn't long to be near me, to hear me, to feel me.

We have exchanged our promises and given our word, the promises have been broken and words not kept. By these acts we have become a memory of what once could have been. I hereby ask you to let me go, let me mourn the loss of what we had and free my heart of you -- it's broken and I would like to have it repaired by someone who will take better care.

By the power I'm managing to find to write my plea, we will never kiss again.