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I confessed to you a week before this happened, I can recall almost every day before it happened and I look back on it with nothing but regret
Saturday evening; it was quiet, my car had stalled with you inside after I offered to pick you up from school. after I opened the car door to my heart to you - we got slushies and drove around the city with no destination in mind, I hadn’t realized your destination would be the path to my downfall
On Sunday it was nothing but peace, you texted me in the morning saying how much you loved me, I thought it was too soon to say that but I didn’t mind. I loved you too.
Me and my friends went out to a thrift store that day and I had so much fun, I got a shirt that I knew you would like. You did.
We met up at school and talked about our weekend and how excited we both were for this newfound relationship between us. You did like the shirt I bought. I was happy.
The rest was a blur. The rest was the both of us talking about what we’d do in the future and what we were doing now, what we were doing while talking to each other and everytime we said goodbye you said you loved me. I believed that
Get off me.
We planned a hangout for the weekend with some of my friends. I was excited for you to come and get to know them more, though you slept through my calls and we ended up having to pick you up after the fact.
Get off me.
I took you out to eat and we went back to my place, this is when I started getting scared. My parents weren’t home, they were on their own date night.
Get off me.
You started kissing me and pushing your venom down my throat, I didn’t want that - but I also didn’t want to make you unhappy by telling you that I didn’t.
Get off me.
You started getting pushy, your hand was now under my shirt and you kept kissing me. Your kisses trailed down to my jaw and to my collarbone, you left your mark with a hickey. It faded the following week, but I know it’s still there.
Get off me.
I finally pushed you off and mustered up the courage to say something, I said it was getting late and I had to take you home. It was 9pm on a Saturday night, it was not late. I wanted you off of me.
You got off me.
I couldn’t tell anyone for months, when I finally told my friends, they said I was assaulted. I said you wouldn’t do that. I defended you after everything. You did though, you did assault me, even after I didn’t believe them. I believed in you instead.
Even if you got off me, you stuck to my soul like glue.
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