Letter to My Rapist on the Two Year Anniversary
A stalking victim’s search for meaning
Context: Two years ago, I was drugged and raped by the maintenance man in my apartment who’d been stalking me for eight months. I was raped for several weeks. Following the events, I was gang stalked for several months.
This is the meaning I’ve made of my healing journey since the event.
On the one year anniversary, I wrote you a letter. I thought I’d mined all I could.
It turns out healing is like a blooming, and last year was just the first leafy tongue coming out of the dirt where you buried me.
When you raped me, it was like you surgically opened every single buried wound. I truly felt as if I died.
The aliveness of my body confused me, going through the motions of living made no sense in a world which had gone so dark. I often questioned if I did die during those nights you raped me, if you killed me, and I walk through the afterlife of hell. The college I taught at was rumored haunted, and I’d think, “Are we sure WE aren’t the ghosts?”
Then there was the resurrection, a view in which I could see you more clearly.
