An open letter to a rapist.

Dear Chi G,
There are so many things I wish I could say to you. So many feelings I wish you could feel that are stuck inside of me. Remember when I used to be all gaga over you? How your voice would make me weak in the knees? I played that voicemail you left me over and over again the one where you said "I like you" all sweet and cute with your Chi town accent. Remember telling my mom why she should love you and that you we're a good guy who cared about her daughter? You forgot? She didn't. Do you know what it's like to not know who you are anymore? To not remember that person?

Ya know I have nightmares about you or similar situations to the one you put me in almost every night. I wake up screaming, kicking, punching, crying or worst of all sometimes I can't wake up. I can't shake the nightmare. Sometimes the nightmare is my every day life. I carry mace. I think about how to mace someone. If I could hit someone. What I'd do if a gun was to my head. I wanna hit things now. I'm angry. I never had that before. I'm afraid of dying everyday, but now that I assume one day you'll find me and kill me it doesn't faze me as much. It's a fact now not a fear. Every time I meet a man I wonder if he knows you. I wonder if he's just talking to me to find out where I live and how to get to me so you can kill me. I'm paranoid now. I have a million fantastical situations built up in my head about all the ways you could find me and mess with me through other people. I jump at every knock, every bump in the night, every tap on my shoulder. I met a guy who looks and sounds a lot like you...when I drink to the point of forgetting I hit him because I can't hit you. Everyone around me is stuck dealing with the aftermath of your mistake.

It's been eight fucking months and I'm still lost. You know where you are? You're free. You probably aren't even looking for me because you think you got away with it. I'm sure I don't even cross your mind when everyday I'm hating you. Everyday I replay those three and a half hours of being locked in my house. Every painful second of feeling like you'd kill me. Every blow to my head. Every second of you touching me, taking from me. There's parts I don't have to remind myself of...like the look in your eyes. The one that I've never seen before. Hate, anger, a desire to punish, beat, kill, rape. That's a look that doesn't go away. I called the cops. I shouldn't have even though it was the right thing to do. They took you away in handcuff and yes they took away 45 days of your life, but ya know what else they took. They took my sheets, my clothes, my body fluids, your DNA and my dignity when they asked if I was making it all up because I was mad that you had a girlfriend.

I sit on the phone for hours every week trying to talk to the prosecuter who is supposed to put you away for me. The one who is here to help protect the law and justice and fight for me. Guess what? They're on your side too. Turns out they don't think it's that important to take a drug dealing, raping, beating, lying piece of shit pimp off the streets. I cry and beg every time I call. I tell them I know a conviction will get me killed, but I want you behind bars so you're not breaking other girls. You raped me two days before your girlfriends birthday while driving her fucking car! I met your mother, your brother, your cousins, knew you for over a year, but never saw this coming.

You know what's worse than being lost; then not being able to move on because this isn't finished? The way my dad looks at me. I used to be his little girl who he loved no matter what. I lied a lot to protect him from the parts of my life that he wouldn't like or want to see, but I couldn't hide this. He doesn't look at me the same anymore. My parents worry about me 24/7 now. They use you as an example every time I try to go on a date to prove I'm not capable of making good decisions. They know I'm damaged now and they worry I'll kill myself or that I'll just never be the same. You took even more from me though...because that's what you do you take. You took my job, my apartment, a few cities, all my friends and my best friend of 17 years. She didn't want me anymore either.

One day I hope this ends. I hope my memory of you fades. I hope that I can forgive you, stop hating you, stop pitying you, stop feeling bad that I did this to you (fucked up right? that I blame myself a little too). I hope I get to see you in court and show you I'm still beautiful and strong even though I've wanted to give up. One day I hope I'll be that amazing woman I thought I was before so that you haven't won. But the biggest thing I wish for is that you think of me every once in awhile and remember what you did...

I needed to get that out.

Without regards,
Lindsay DeBoard