Shared Stories

Your Apology Means Nothing

By Brooke

I used to get excited when you’d come visit me at work. The best part of my day was making your coffee.

My ears would perk up when I heard the sound of your loud mustang coming around the corner. Now, all I do is flinch. 

When I imagined us being alone together, I didn’t envision the worst moment of my life. I didn’t envision you’d keep going when I told you I wanted to slow down. I didn’t envision you’d say, “you’ll be fine” when I asked you to stop. I didn’t envision you pinning me down when I fought you off. I didn’t envision my first time to be with my rapist. 

Once you finished, I was too ashamed to confront you about what you’d done…but you knew. When I said my brother would be home soon and that you should leave, you jumped too quickly at the opportunity to run away. 

Did you even leave feeling bad?

I found myself lost, with no answers. 

My brother found me drunk on the floor. 

You sent me down a path of silent self destruction that has taken me years to dig myself out of. But I’m still digging.

I ran away from the community I thought would judge me. 

I ran away from a healthy relationship.

I ran away from facing the fact that I was a victim. 

Seeing you drive by on your way to work was a daily reminder of the things I’d lost. My innocence, my trust, my love for my body, my faith, and the person I used to be. I was merely a shell of the person I was before I met you. 

Then you had the nerve to come visit me at work a year later. I fought back tears when I turned around and saw your face. You ordered a coffee and acted like we were old friends catching up. 

Did you not notice me shaking? 

Did you think the $43 tip you left me was a good enough apology? 

Or was the Facebook message you sent me after you left, apologizing for what you’d done, enough to make up for ruining my life? 

I’m glad you think, “karma got you for that one”. 

How dare you say apologizing to me is your New Years resolution. 

You don’t get to move on from this feeling you’ve washed your hands of guilt because of a vague apology for “the things you did to me” and cash. 

I’ll never be washed of the scars you left. I’ll never feel clean after how dirty you made me feel. I’ll never be free of the triggers that pop up when my boyfriend touches me. 

Your apology means nothing.

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