I suppose I've been trying to write this letter for weeks. Maybe some part of me feels like I owe you for the friendship we had. Maybe it's at the encouragement of our mutual friends. Either way, I'll start by saying this is difficult and painful to write.
You probably don't remember the night in Wren we were hanging out. You kept asking me to come cuddle with you. I said no. I kept saying no. I called you needy. You laughed it off until finally I said fine, at which point you grabbed me. What seemed like an insignificant hug to you was a loss of control and safety to me. You have changed Tufts from a safe space away from my hell in California to the worse of two evils.
You crossed a line. You may not remember when, but I live with this knowledge every day. When I walk around campus, when I'm on the bus; through my facade of smiles; when I try to sleep. I don't sleep well anymore. I have nightmares where I'm suffocating, you're grabbing me, I can't escape. You make me want to leave the place I used to love. You make me feel like I don't own my life or my body. You sometimes make me want to let it all end in a culmination of nothing.
I know you're mad at me for not explaining this to you right away. I hope you realize how hard it is to explain it to you. It makes me relive the pain and loss of control. It makes me feel sick. It makes me feel like I want to collapse inside myself until I don't exist. It's taken me this long, weeks to write this letter because it’s taken me this long to process what exactly you did to me and get it down without breaking down. I don't know what exactly I want to happen, but I suppose I'm looking to explain why things are forever changed.
Look at yourself. You were so quick to call us best friends. Yet these past few weeks you’ve been going behind my back and pushing a one sided narrative. You made my life more of a living hell then it ever needed to be. You never tried to understand where I was coming from. You never realized, in all your self proclaimed knowledge of who I am, that I don’t do this unless someone has truly wronged me. Perhaps it’s for the same reasons I had to include this last petty paragraph. Anger. Frustration. A want for closure.