I hate how shit like happened last summer fucked me up. I hate how I can’t just get on with my life. I hate how he probably doesn’t even know what he did was wrong. I hate how I blame myself. I hate flashbacks. I hate how sex that is wanted by everyone involved can sometimes trigger flashbacks.

I hate how people look at me when they find out. I hate how people wonder how it could happen to me “cos I’m so smart and sure of myself”. I hate how other see it partially my fault. I hate that I can’t just tell the world what an ass he is.

I hate how people say that was happened to me isn’t rape. I hate all the bloody stereotypes surrounding rape. I hate how I’m supposed to take drunk assholes groping me as “a compliment”.

I hate how it affects my life. I hate how I can’t just live my life like it never happened. I hate how I wasted money for those train tickets. I hate how he guilt tripped me. I hate how easy it is to guilt trip me. I hate that his words could hurt so bad. I hate how I cared about him.

I hate how men feel entitled to sex. I hate how a friend of mine who wasn’t in the mood was told it was “her duty as his girlfriend”. I hate that so many I know have been raped. I hate how easy rapists walk free.

I hate how he can still make me cry. I hate how easy it was for him to break me. I hate how hard it is to recover. I hate PT-fucking-SD. I hate how much it still hurts. I hate that I don’t hate him.

I hate how I feel guilty if I’m not in the mood when boyfriend is horny. I hate how it feels like I’m doing something wrong when I say no. I hate how fucked up this society is.