Day 23 of 30: Write a letter to the person who has ever hurt you the most.

Dear C,

If over 3 years ago, someone would have told me I would harbor this much resentment towards one person, I would've probably rolled me eyes, but to know that the person is you at times feels like a homicide to my heart. If I could get over it I would... trust!

My mom doesn't like me to openly talk about what has happened to me, but I think she is from a time where a lot of things are taboo and I feel that by sharing hopefully I can help someone else. In life we find ourselves saying what we would and wouldn't do, until the situation approaches us. Would I ever think I would be sexually assaulted, no! And by 2 men, in a friends house and then discarded by the friend to tend to the guy you were dating, but had participated in the act, no, again! Matter of fact... Hell no!

Life however has a way of delivering blows that sometimes knocks all of the proverbial air out of us. The days and weeks following that day were among some of the worst for me. I couldn't sleep, I didn't want to eat and cried all day long until it felt like my tear ducts would dry out. Sadness does not even begin to describe how I felt. Eventually, I pulled together a facade to help those who were upset as well (family and friends) try to move past it. Looking back, I can truly acknowledge that I was depressed!

In the beginning I had people inbox me on facebook and ask why we weren't friends on there or they saw you or one of the other girls and were told a version that was blatantly a lie and in my opinion, your way to save face about the whole situation. I stuck with the standard "people grow apart" but as each day passed and more lies were told, that sense of loss I was feeling turned into hatred! I was mourning the loss of something so intimate being taken from me. Mourning the loss of friends I had been inseparable from for 12 years. Mourning the loss of my identity and on the verge of suicide, twice! I couldn't do it though because it's a cowards way out and when I got to that point I thought of my parents and my nieces, they need me and I would never want to leave them to deal with such pain. I'm better than that!

I don't think you understand what's it's like to spend five hours in a rape crisis center, being poked and prodded. Given what seems like a gazillion medicines as a preventative measure. To take pictures of your sacred areas. To be asked one million questions.

Or what it's like to see your father so upset, mother crying, friends ready to go hunt these dudes down with guns blazing.

Or to have the police tell you that "we're really sorry this happened to you, we've got substantial evidence but you weren't shot, stabbed or beaten so your case has to wait for a couple of years."

When I finally reached you, you were rude at first and then tearful. I will never forget that conversation because I could never be so callous to ask someone I call a friend to go have lunch and just forget about what happened. Or to give the guys my number, hoping that them apologizing or bringing up their kids would keep me from going to the police. Amazing because through the pain comes the lessons and eventually the healing. I don't hate you you anymore, but I can't lie to myself and say I'm over it.

The biggest lesson I learned from all of this is, expectations, especially great ones will let you down! What I am thinking in my head you should do, say, think or feel is probably not what you believe you should do and that's where the problem lies. If I was to truly reflect, our friendship was over many years before that happened, but I didn't trust my gut instinct to let you all go and or to have stayed with Kara that night. Or listened to Derek when he told me to leave.

You live and you learn. I probably could beat your ass and you really take me there when you try and strike up conversations when you see me or try to pass the love in church. To me all of the "I miss you's and still love you" with a smile, lacks so much sincerity on your part, but again EXPECTATIONS and perceptions. No matter how much this situation or you bother me, I pray for you and them. The carnal part of me would love to see to it you feel my wrath, but my spirit keeps me at bay. Besides, I'm way too cute to do 20 to life for some crime, when I know revenge doesn't belong to me but the Lord.

Keturah